


Becoming Reality

by Mommadon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Akumatized Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alternate Reality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 69,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mommadon/pseuds/Mommadon
Summary: He blinked, trying to force the memory to the surface, but all he could see was the tears on her cheeks, the black and purple creeping across her features, the foggy voices shouting, and then his own heartache.There was one thing, one sentence, that suddenly rang through his memory as clearly as if she were standing next to him right now: “You have met me without the mask, more than once.”He knew her.  He didn’t know who she was, where she was, or how he was going to find her, but he knew that Chat Noir had spent time with her when she wasn’t transformed.  She was in his life, and he in hers.  It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all he had.It was time to find his Lady.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 417
Kudos: 341





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, dear readers! Welcome to another multi-chapter Mommadon Fic. I hope you enjoy this, even though I'm just writing into the blind right now. I'm not sure exactly where this will end up, but as always, I'm writing to unwind and having fun as I do. So, without further ado...

Chapter 1

“Quick, Chat, over here!” He propelled himself upward with his baton, did a summersault in the air, and landed just in time to swat away the crow-sized housefly that was zooming toward a group of terrified citizens.

“Sorry guys, gotta fly!” he joked, winking at a teenage girl—he lingered just long enough for her eyes to pop and her jaw to slacken—before launching himself away dramatically. Ladybug was on top of the building next door, taking on more than her fair share of the enormous insects and, like always, looking particularly graceful as she did so, despite being splattered with bug guts. Her yo-yo zipped faster than normal vision could track, her muscles were tense, her lips curled up against her bared teeth, and her eyes were focused. Chat leaned back briefly on his extended baton to watch her. She was _glorious._ She always had been, and she always would be. 

A fresh wave of huge insects was zipping up the side of the building and suddenly Chat Noir remembered that he was in this fight as well. He took a running leap, ground his claws into the wall, and propelled himself up to where she was working, but he was woefully behind. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that if he hadn’t been wasting time teasing teenage girls and gawking at Ladybug’s curves, perhaps he could have beaten the swarm, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on mistakes. He willed himself to move faster, and he did.

Just not fast enough. He landed on all fours on the roof just in time to see the swarm descend on Ladybug. The yo-yo got decimated by a pair of vicious hornets. Gnats the size of softballs were so thick in the air that Ladybug couldn’t see. Last, a grizzly-sized preying mantis cocked its head to the side, clicked its jaws once, and snatched Ladybug in it is massive arms. It turned to the edge of the roof, unfurled its glistening wings, and prepared to launch.

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir cried as he pushed toward her—arriving just barely in time to connect with the insect’s grasp. Its arms disintegrated, dropping Ladybug over the edge of the building. “Milady!” he howled as he watched her red suit falling faster than he could follow. Without her yo-yo, she had no hope for slowing her descent. Chat Noir’s vision was overcome by the gnat horde, but his enhanced hearing was assaulted by the sickening crunch below him. “No!” he cursed himself, then spun his baton and angrily took out the swarm. 

He fought valiantly, insects falling left and right, and lost track of time. Suddenly, the insects disappeared in dazzling flash of sparkling red and black and Chat found himself swinging his baton at the brilliant sunlight. He shook his head and looked around; Ladybug was back on the rooftop, holding a dazed entomologist’s hand and releasing a white butterfly from her yo-yo. Chat Noir grinned, incredibly proud of his teamwork. Sure, he felt a twang of guilt that he hadn’t prevented her from falling over the edge of the building, but it all worked out in the end. It always worked out in the end. He pounced across the rooftop as she finished talking to the akuma victim and helped her to the rooftop stairs.

“Great work, Bugaboo! Pound it!” he held out his fist, but she didn’t turn to him. She escorted the freshly-deakumatized scientist to the exit, bid her farewell, and then, when they were alone, exhaled noisily. Her shoulders were sagging, her head fell. “Milady?” he queried.

She slowly turned to him and he frowned. While the Miraculous Ladybug had healed her cuts and bruises, blood was still dried to her chin and one pigtail had been ripped out—she looked terrible. “Chat,” she sighed, “I… I…”

He reached out a gloved hand for her arm, “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it up here in time—but it worked out. We still won.”

She stumbled to the wall around the door exit and leaned up against it, slowly shaking her head. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

He laughed, “Don’t say that; we’re great! Indestructible supersuits sure come in handy. And true, that akuma was a little harder than normal, but we got there in the end.”

She palmed her temples and sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just been so long, you know? I’m… I’m tired.”

“Hey,” he crooned, trying a different tactic, “four years isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. Four years of our partnership, four years of saving Paris—that’s something to be proud of.”

She shrugged with effort, “Maybe.”

Ladybug didn’t seem convinced and Chat Noir was at a total loss. “These past four years have been the best of my life,” he sighed as he looked at her closed eyes.

She slid down to the ground. “I’m glad for you, then,” she said. The sarcasm in her voice wasn’t lost on Chat.

“Ladybug,” he said, curling up next to her, now genuinely concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t think I can do this anymore! I was seriously tempted, just now, to give up my Miraculous.”

“No! Don’t say things like—”

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand, Chat. You’re not the one wearing the earrings. You’re the one who gets to do acrobatics and flirt with every cute girl on the street and I’m the one who has to come up with all the plans, every time, then go home and take care of all the other kwami because—”

“That’s not fair—” he interrupted, “I don’t _flirt_ with all the other girls—”

“Sure you do.”

“And you know I’ve volunteered to help out every time you’ve asked, _every_ time—”

She sighed. “You’re right, I’m not trying to discount the good you do. I just… I need a break.”

He let her breathe briefly and stole a glance at his ring. He had a couple pads left—thank goodness being older meant his countdown to detransformation had been growing longer—so he leaned gently against her shoulder, “It’s ok, everyone needs a break sometimes. Why don’t you go home, get a massage or something, and we’ll meet up tomorrow evening after patrol. I’ll plan something nice for dinner.”

She rolled her eyes, “Chat—”

“I know, I know,” he grinned, “It’s not a date, just dinner. You can relax, enjoy the evening, it’ll be great.” 

She moaned and shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

“Awesome,” he smirked. “Just in case you decide yes, what’s your favorite type of food?” She eyed him warily. “Oh, come on,” he bantered, “you’re not going to reveal your identity just by telling me your favorite type of food!”

She lifted the corner of her lip ever so slightly and Chat Noir’s heart raced at that hopeful sign. “Oh fine,” she muttered, “I suppose it can’t hurt. Chinese. But good, homemade Chinese, none of that greasy stuff.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Her face fell, “I still shouldn’t have told you that.”

“There’s millions of girls in Paris that like Chinese food—”

She dropped her face in her hands and her shoulders slumped again. “That’s not it. I—I just have never told anyone that before. I guess my parents know, but beyond that—”

Chat laughed, “Not even your boyfriend?” Her face suddenly turned pained. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he whispered. “I just thought that you must be dating someone because you…”

“Because I’m not going out with you.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to say—” but it _was_ what he was going to say, and she knew it. Time for yet another tactic, “But it’s ok. I’m not your boyfriend nor will I claim to be. I’m your partner and your friend. You can tell me what’s wrong. 

She was quiet for a beat, then suddenly stood and smiled very stiffly. “Everything’s fine.” She extended a very formal hand. He didn’t take it.

“C’mon, LB, you can talk to me. What’s wrong? Please, tell me.”

She grimaced, “Nothing. Have a good night, Chat Noir. See you tomorrow.” She tried to shake his hand again, and he just kept looking at the awkward gesture until she spun on her heel and ran for the edge of the roof. He could have sworn she sniffled away tears as she zipped off toward the horizon.

* * *

It took Adrien all of twenty minutes to find a the most amazing Chinese restaurant in Paris and arrange for a private catered event. Four years of asking and hoping and trying to move past her and finally, she hadn’t flat out refused him. He was _not_ going to mess this up. He barely slept, far too excited for the next day, and finally found himself tapping his pencil and watching the clock instead of taking notes as his Humanities teacher showed slides of ancient Chinese burial plots. Despite most of his classes being tandem University credit, he’d never found school particularly difficult, and today he was more distractible than usual.

“You can see here that this person was buried with treasure,” the teacher was pointing out, and Adrien looked at his blank notebook. He should probably make an effort, he counseled himself, and wrote ‘Treasure in Chinese burial tombs’ on his paper. Then he started wondering if they ate egg rolls back then. He wondered if the restaurant he’d found really was as great as it was made out to be. Maybe he should have vetted the place first before placing his entire future with Ladybug in their hands. Suddenly nervous, he snuck his phone out of his pocket to check on his reservation.

“Adrien,” a soft, feminine voice beside him whispered, “do you need help with your notes?”

“What?” he looked up. Marinette, who had been studiously scribbling on her page since the start of class, was smiling at him gently.

“Y-You just seem a little distracted today.” She looked away almost as soon as their eyes met, focusing back on her notes and biting her lower lip. 

He twirled his pencil and tried to pay attention. The lecture finished a moment later, though, and Adrien’s almost entirely blank page of notes flashed at him from the desktop.

“So what is it—” Alix’s voice trilled from the other side of the room, “big photoshoot? No, fencing match?”

“Huh?” 

Adrien’s pint-sized classmate jumped over her desk so she was standing next to Adrien. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Oh,” he shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket again, “Nothing. I just didn’t sleep so great, I guess.”

Marinette worked around Alix and started packing up her things. Over the years, classes had changed, friends had come and gone, but most of them had managed to stay together. Humanities might not have been Adrien’s favorite topic but having such good friends in his class made it bearable. 

Nino’s laugh barked out throughout the room, “Nice try, dude. He’s obviously got a big date tonight.”

Adrien blushed, but he couldn’t stop the grin from cracking across his cheeks. Marinette seemed to freeze. 

“No way,” Alix chirped, “a girl?”

Adrien shrugged noncommittally and shouldered his messenger bag. 

“Seriously, I pegged you with Marinette _ages_ ago—so glad to finally see my ship sailing!”

At the mention of her name, Marinette turned bright red and started stuttering, “N-n-no—”

“Marinette? Nah,” Adrien brushed it off, “We’re great friends, and that’s just right, huh, Marinette.”

She nodded vigorously and shoved a pencil so hard in her bookbag that Adrien heard it snap.

Alya suddenly grabbed Alix’s shoulder and Nino’s hand and marched the two of them from the room, loudly proclaiming, “I need to speak with the two of you NOW.” 

Marinette quietly put the rest of her things in her bag. “I… I guess Kagami’s back in town, then? She didn’t say anything about coming for a visit in her last email, so I… I didn’t know she was around.”

“Marinette, I’m sorry for that, for what Alix said about… you know, us—”

She just shook her head, “It’s fine.”

“You sure? You don’t seem fine.”

She forced a smile on her face and hissed, “I said it’s fine. I know I told you I had a crush on you, but that was years ago. I’m over it.”

He scanned her face, and while he wasn’t entirely convinced, he had to trust her. “Ok, good, because I really like this girl and would love an opinion on how to win her favor.”

“Oh, you know what she likes, fencing and martial arts and anime…”

“Wait, are you talking about Kagami?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked. He rubbed the back of his neck. She shook her head and blathered, “No, hang on, don’t answer that. I don’t need to know, and I don’t care. You’re free to date whoever you like and it’s your business. Just be good to her and listen to her. That’s the most charming thing you can do. Here,” she sighed, pulling a pink notebook from her book bag and sliding it across the table, “You can borrow my notes tonight, since you didn’t take much of your own.” Marinette looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip, then turned back to Adrien with a rather tight-lipped smile. “I hope you have a great date tonight.” 

“Thanks, Marinette, you’re the best!” He grinned, shoved her notebook into his messenger bag, and pecked her cheek before marching for the door. She really had become a great friend, even if the first year they’d known each other had been punctuated with awkward, stammering conversations. After the weird summer where he’d almost-sort-of-not-really had a relationship with Kagami, Marinette had admitted that she’d once had a little crush on him, but that she was totally over it. Ever since then, they’d been much better friends and Adrien was grateful for it. He’d been sad for hurting her without even realizing it, but it was good to have it out in the open. While their conversations were perhaps a little shallow and never discussed each other’s love lives, they were always cordial, and Adrien knew he could ask Marinette for a girl’s opinion on just about anything—and that was the best relationship any guy could hope for.

* * *

Marinette’s notes proved invaluable during Adrien’s homework that evening and he was ready for patrol a little early. He’d have to remember to thank Marinette for the help. He told Nathalie that he was going out with friends—she scowled, but Adrien was now on the brink of graduation and much harder to control than he’d once been—so he strolled out the mansion’s front doors much to her chagrin. He ran to the alley behind the mansion in one of the few security camera blindspots he knew about, called a sleepy Plagg into his ring, and tore off across the rooftops of Paris. His muscles were alive tonight, his limbs lithe and powerful. The air rushed through his hair and over the smooth contours of his chest and back. He was perhaps a little sloppy with his patrol and only half focused on what he sensed from the city below him, but he trusted Ladybug would alert him if she found any trouble, and for the time being he was enjoying the way his Miraculous enhanced his strength and dexterity. He climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower, scanned the horizon in a slow 360 turn, then, laughing to himself, tossed himself off the roof and opened his arms to feel the rush of wind and adrenaline that followed him as he freefell. All too soon, he had to extend his staff to prevent the collision with the ground, but then he was flying upward again, spinning in the air and soaring over the skyline, his tail whipping behind him. 

He finished his patrol in record time and sent a quick message to Ladybug that all was clear on his route. She acknowledged his message, so he landed at their pre-selected meeting spot. The caterer had already come and gone, and Chat only had a few last-minute preparations to assure everything was perfect before—

Ladybug arrived. “Milady!” he bowed, taking her hand softly and pressing his lips to her knuckles. She didn’t pull away. “How was your patrol?”

She looked around the gazebo set up with a quaint little table, two chairs, and no onlookers—Adrien had been very strict about that. “This is really nice, thanks Chat,” she said in a flat tone.

“You wanted to take a break, and this Kitty listened,” he grinned despite himself. She tentatively sat in one of the chairs. He pulled the cover off her plate, which was heaped with delicious smelling Chinese food. 

She looked at it sadly, then looked back at Chat, then at the food once more. She picked up her chopsticks and poked at it, then sighed, “I’m sorry Chat, I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Doing what? You haven’t done anything,” he said, saddling up his own chair and removing the cover from his plate. 

She looked at the gazebo roof in a familiar gesture, “You know full well what I’m talking about. Leading you on.”

He chuckled, “Ladybug, I told you this wasn’t a date.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Look, we’ve been partners for four years, right? Why can’t we just enjoy a nice dinner together once and a while? Would it really be so bad?”

“Dinner? No. But maybe it’s time for us to… I don’t know.”

“Just say whatever is on your mind.”

She finally took a bite—Chat was grateful for that—and chewed thoughtfully. “This is really good,” she muttered, eating a little more, then she bit her lip and looked up at him. “It _has_ been four years. Four years of lame excuses to everyone we love, four years of hurt feelings—”

“Four years of fun,” he interjected. She raised an eyebrow before continuing.

“Four years without catching Hawkmoth, or even any leads. I used to daydream all the time—about life, about boys, about what I would do when I grew up, and here I am, on the precipice of adulthood, and all I can be is Ladybug. My future is equal parts chaos and destiny.”

“You… don’t daydream anymore?”

She shook her head sadly and took another bite of food. “Especially since becoming the Guardian. Do you know when the last time I left Paris was?” He shrugged. “Star Train.”

He racked his brain. There had been so many akumas, it was hard to remember them all. “Wait, wasn’t that when we gave Max the Horse Miraculous?” She nodded. That was three years ago.

“And even that was just a quick outing to save the train.”

Chat suddenly felt a little sheepish. He felt he’d been sheltered, trapped even, by his home life, but his Father had taken him on numerous business trips over the last few years, or to their family beach house or their cabin in the Swiss Alps, and even a dull trip to England to visit his cousin Felix—but Ladybug had always held down the fort while he was away. Surely he’d returned the favor—“What about that one time when you…” but even as he started the sentence, he couldn’t think of a way to finish it.

She shook her head, “No, the last time I really went on vacation was before I got the earrings.”

He tried think of something chipper to say. “Well, it’s high time for a vacation then! I have access to a cabin in the Swiss Alps, we can take the horse m—”

“No,” she cut him off abruptly, “you can’t say anything about your personal life! Besides,” she insisted, “we shouldn’t use the Horse Miraculous for personal reasons, not with Hawkmoth still out and about.”

Plagg’s mischievous nature stirred within him, “Sometimes you’re too uptight about the ‘rules.’ Would it really be so bad?”

She swallowed her mouthful of food and looked at him sternly, “If you knew what I knew, you wouldn’t say that.”

“What? What do you know?”

“Enough to definitively say that finding out each other’s identities would be disastrous.”

Her tone was final enough that Chat didn’t try to argue. He instead diverted, “Ok, so a weekend away with the Horse Miraculous is off the table. We can still try other things. I can take on more responsibility… or you said you’ve stopped daydreaming about boys, maybe we could give us a go?” he tried to keep his voice nonchalant.

She glared, “I knew you’d make this about you.”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant. I just meant if you’re over… that other boy…” She looked at her food and pushed it around with her chopsticks. “ _Are_ you over him?” She didn’t respond. “Oh… you aren’t…”

“No, that’s not it.”

“So you are?”

“Chat Noir, that’s neither here nor there. Besides, it’s been four years and he’s never shown even the slightest interest in me,” she added as an afterthought.

“Which I think is stupid—”

She snapped, “You do, huh? All you’ve ever known about me is this,” she waved her hand over her costume. “You’ve only ever seen the mask, the Miraculous, the super strength and the Lucky Charms and the purified akumas. But _this_ isn’t all there is to me! I’m a girl, I’m a person who gets lonely and scared sometimes, and can never be one-hundred-percent myself around anyone. I can’t be Ladybug when I’m not wearing the mask and I can’t be me when I am. I have to be two different people and it’s killing me! It killed my chances—not that there ever really were any—with that boy, it killed my chances with the only other guy who’s shown any interest in me, and it’s killing my chances with you—”

“No way,” Chat Noir interrupted, “I totally love you, Ladybug—”

“You do? You don’t know me! Nobody does!” she huffed, throwing her chopsticks on the table and standing and leaning on the gazebo pillar. “And I can’t do this anymore. It’s eating me alive.”

Chat Noir was shocked into silence. He fiddled with his chopsticks. “Please don’t say that,” he mewled, walking to her side, “I _do_ love you, I always have.”

She turned steely eyes on him, “You _always_ have? So much that you’ve never, in four years, tried to find me without the mask?”

He recoiled. “You wouldn’t allow that—”

She laughed bitterly, “The funny thing is, you _have_ met me without the mask, more than once—“ her eyes popped open and she clasped a hand over her mouth, instantly regretting losing control of her tongue.

“ _What?”_ Chat gasped.

She shook her head, “This was a mistake, this was a huge mistake, oh, I’m such an idiot,” she growled at herself, stumbling down the stairs of the gazebo.

“Ladybug! Wait!” Chat called, but she was clutching her head in her hands and running off. He chased after her, not sure what to do, but knowing he had to do _something,_ when he spotted it—the little black butterfly racing right at her.

“Cataclysm!” he screamed, but he was too late. The butterfly collided with her yo-yo. Ladybug collapsed to her knees under the weight of the akumatization. He raced to her side and called her name over and over, but she was shaking, trembling—the purple butterfly outlined her brilliant bluebell eyes, and in one last desperate moment, she lifted her chin, tears pouring over her cheeks, and looked at him.

“I’m so sorry,” she groaned through the strain of holding off Hawkmoth’s control, “Tikki, do it.

Black and purple bubbled over her body as Chat Noir howled into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Adrien’s head was killing him. He rolled over and detangled his legs from the thick down comforter he was under, then stretched and looked at the clock. 3:21 AM, it flashed. Goodie. He stood up and massaged his temples, then padded to the bathroom to find some pain killers. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was the first time something felt strange to him. But what was it? He repeated the motion, and realized his fingers ran out of hair a lot sooner than felt right. He flipped on the bathroom light and blinked against the flood of illumination until his eyes adjusted, then looked in the mirror. His hair was much shorter than it had been before. Weird. He leaned over the sink and splashed water on his face. Gripping the edge of the counter and hunching his back against the fresh onslaught of pain behind his eyeballs, he looked at his white knuckles. 

Wait, no. No. His right hand—there was nothing there. His Miraculous was gone. “Plagg!” he yelled, racing back to his bed and tearing the covers off. “Plagg, where are you?” He turned on all the lights in his room. The mini-fridge was gone. Plagg’s favorite garbage can was empty. “Plagg! No!” he yelled again, when at last a tiny movement caught his eye. “Plagg! Is that you?” he hurled himself over the white couch where he’d seen the movement, but it wasn’t a black little kwami. It was, however, a kwami. A very terrified, shaking, battered-looking red-and-black spotted kwami, to be exact.

“ _Tikki?”_ he cried, scooping her shaking little body in his hands. “What is going on? Why are you here?”

“I… only just… got us away…” she moaned. 

“What do you mean? Hang on, let me take care of you,” he crooned, stroking a finger down the side of her cheek. He searched the room for something for her to eat. He dug fruitlessly through the drawers of his desk, and then opened his messenger bag. While he had no recollection of how it got there, a small box of Dupain-Cheng macarons was tucked inside. “Thank goodness for Marinette,” he sighed, pulled them out, and set Tikki next to the whole thing. He then ran to his closet to find something warm for her to snuggle in. He grabbed his favorite blue scarf that his father had given him, brought it back, and fashioned a little nest for her. She smiled up at him weakly. He broke off pieces of macaron and fed her until she started looking a little better.

“Thank you, Adrien,” she croaked. “I almost didn’t get out in time.”

He gave her a sip of water from his water bottle, then quietly asked, “What are you talking about?”

She raised an eyebrow, “You don’t remember?”

He thought carefully, “I was… I was…” but his mind was foggy, and he wasn’t sure whether the last thing he remembered was reality or a dream. “I was with… Ladybug? Yes, we were on a date, well, she wouldn’t call it a date, but I would…”

“Oh good, you _do_ remember her,” Tikki sighed in relief.

“What do you mean, remember her? Of course I remember her.”

“I wasn’t sure if anyone would make it out. I’ve only tried that once before, and nobody remembered anything. It was awful. We had to start completely over. But then again, in that instance, he didn’t really love her, not all of her, and I think that’s key… good to know…”

“Tikki, what are you talking about?”

Tikki took another sip of water and nibbled on her macaron, and finally had enough strength to sit up and look at Adrien.

“You know my name. What am I?”

“You? You’re Ladybug’s kwami.”

“And what do kwami do?”

“They give superheroes magical powers when they inhabit their Miraculous.” She nodded sagely. “Tikki? What’s this about? And where’s Plagg? And why is my hair shorter?”

“I had to make sure you really had your memories intact. I couldn’t just tell you all our secrets if you didn’t already know. Adrien, Ladybug’s been akumatized.”

The memory came back to him, hazy as the others, of Ladybug’s tear-stained face being enveloped in black and purple. “So that’s not a dream?”

“Not really.”

“Not really? How can something not really be a dream?”

“We’ve… entered a different reality, I guess you can say, so everything that happened before I pulled us here is basically a dream.”

“A different _reality?_ ”

“Yeah. See, as the only kwami with the ability to purify akumas and amoks, I had to have the ability to get away, but only if my holder requests it. After a couple of close calls several years ago, Ladybug and I made an arrangement that if she were ever to be akumatized again, she would only have to give the signal and I would vacate her Miraculous and create a new reality for her to prevent the Miraculous from falling in the wrong hands.” 

“So… she’s not still akumatized, then?”

“No… and yes… This reality is in flux and will be until she either accepts it permanently or asks to return to destroy the akuma.”

“Whoa,” Adrien stammered, “Well, let’s go get her, let’s make it right.”

“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy,” Tikki sighed. “She won’t have any memory of me or of the Miraculous or of being Ladybug.” 

“Why not?”

Tikki sniffed, “Because this is _her_ reality, and at the point she was akumatized, she didn’t want the Miraculous in it. I could only take what was in her mind and re-create things the way she was envisioning them in that moment.”

Adrien flopped on the edge of his bed, suddenly feeling very heavy. “What do I have to do?”

Tikki looked up at the ceiling in a hauntingly familiar way, then back at him, “If we’re to have any chance of her asking to return to the way things were, you’re going to have to find her and remind her what she loves about being Ladybug. You’re going to have to convince her to dismiss this reality.”

“Ok,” Adrien agreed, massaging his still-throbbing forehead, “Where is she?”

Tikki shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tikki, now’s not the time for secret identities. I need to help her. It’s time to just come clean and—”

“No, Adrien, she wrote me out of her life along with the rest of the Miraculous.” Tikki’s voice choked. “I know she’s here, I know she’s in pain, I know she needs me, but I can’t remember her name either. I can’t remember her face or anything about her.”

“ _What?”_

Tikki sobbed, “Adrien, she’s the best Ladybug I’ve ever known, and I’ve lost her!”

“But you know me. You remember me, just like I remember you. I remember her. I remember… everything…” Yet, even as he said it, the memories seemed elusive. He grabbed a black notebook on his desk that seemed to call to him and turned to a blank page. His hands felt far more comfortable with a pencil than they had in the past, and he instinctively started sketching. He didn’t have memories of drawing before, but this felt right, so he continued. He drew a circular head, no, it was a little more pointed at the chin. There was a mouth, but not just any mouth—one with a gentle curve on the side and soft pink lips. She had a small nose and ears that hid behind ripples of black hair. She had bangs that fell over her forehead and sometimes across the line of vision, and the rest of her hair was pulled into pigtails with jaunty ribbons curling off the back. When Adrien finally felt ready, he started the eyes. Her eyes were round, slightly pointed in the corners, blazing and kind, with long black lashes. The last, most important thing was the mask. He penciled it in, spots and all, then opened a drawer to find a stash of art supplies he didn’t recognize, and yet seemed so familiar. He pulled out the markers, lined his sketch in black, and then started filling in the lines with the appropriate colors. The mask was red, the lips were pink—no, a soft coral, her hair wasn’t just black, it had a navy blue shine to it, and he used seven different shades of blue to get her irises just the right color. 

Adrien sat back in the chair and stretched. He looked at the picture, satisfied at last. “Tikki,” he said, and the kwami jumped. She’d dozed off while he worked. He peeked at the clock—6:52 AM. “Holy, did I really work on this _that_ long?”

Tikki stretched and flew over to his shoulder and looked down at the picture. “That’s… that’s _her?”_

“Yeah,” he said proudly, “though I’m not sure where these art skills came from. I’ve never been so great at art, except music. My dad always wanted me to follow him into fashion, but I never enjoyed it as much.” Tikki stared at the picture for a long time. “Do you recognize her at all?” Adrien asked. “I mean, I’m drawing from memory, so I’m sure there’s got to be some discrepancies, but… ring any bells?”

Tikki turned to him slowly and shook her head, “No. I don’t know anything about this girl, other than that she’s Ladybug, and that we need to find her.”

Adrien slumped back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Three minutes later, the alarm on his phone went off and he jumped. He’d only managed to turn it off when a quick knock sounded at the door. “Adrien, school,” Nathalie’s level voice sounded through the door. 

“Oh, shoot,” he muttered, and started looking for his clothes. The only thing he could find was a pair of grey slacks, a black button-up, and a white vest with a matching tie. He had that same strange foreign-and-yet-familiar feeling as he put on the clothes obviously meant for him. He ignored the vest and tie—that felt way too formal for school. After a few minutes in the bathroom, he returned to his desk. “Tikki, do you want to come to school with me?” 

She stretched out of her little nest, and smiled, “I suppose I’d better.”

“How much is going to be different? I mean, I feel like I look way different, but my room’s the same. I obviously have a proclivity toward art in this reality, so _that’s_ different…”

Tikki shrugged and grabbed the last of the Dupain-Cheng macarons and flew to Adrien’s messenger bag. “I have no idea. This is Ladybug’s reality, right?”

“Does that mean she sees Adrien as _this?_ ” he indicated the slim-fitting black shirt and short hair.

“Well, probably a little. Reality-rewriting is a weird thing.”

“I’d imagine,” he chortled despite himself. 

“Reality has to make sense, you see. There has to be balance, there has to be logic and reason. That’s why we don’t do it, and it’s much better when we’re a pair—”

“A pair?”

“Plagg and me. We do it together, but only under the most desperate circumstances, or if we’re forced. Somethings must be created, others must be destroyed to find the perfect harmony.”

“But Plagg’s not here, nor were you unified when creating this reality,” Adrien said, his headache flaring up again.

“No, he’s not here. So obviously there’s going to be gaps. It’s going to be weird, and maybe we can use those gaps to our advantage. If something seems wrong or out of balance, that might be a sign that Ladybug—whoever she is—is trying to hold on to the previous reality. Those should be our first points of interest. They will lead us to her.”

“So what do you suggest I do today?”

Tikki blinked, “We’ll go to school, we’ll try to be as normal as possible, and take note of anything that feels off. And if you feel drawn to anyone, take note of that too. Follow your gut. You know her, right?”

“Better than anyone,” he stated, far less confidently than he’d like. “Or at least, I thought I did. Maybe I didn’t…”

“Adrien, don’t overthink things right now. Remember, you wouldn’t remember her at all if you didn’t truly love her.”

He nodded. He loved her—of anything, he was certain of that. He loved Ladybug, and if he knew who she was under that mask, he would love her all the more. “I feel like I betrayed her,” he blurted before he could recall his words. “She was angry at me. She was justifiably angry at me. I can’t remember exactly why, but I know I messed up, Tikki.”

“That’s ok, what else do you recall? Every bit helps.”

He blinked, trying to force the memory to the surface, but all he could see was her the tears on her cheeks, the black and purple creeping across her features, the foggy voices shouting, and then his own heartache. 

There was one thing, one sentence, that suddenly rang through his memory as clearly as if she were standing next to him right now: _“You have met me without the mask, more than once.”_

He knew her. He didn’t know who she was, where she was, or how he was going to find her, but he knew that Chat Noir had spent time with her when she wasn’t transformed. She was in his life, and he in hers. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all he had.

“Alright Tikki, let’s go find our Lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, for reading. I decided to post these first two chapters on the same day so you can get a sense for the plot of this story. I hope to post frequently, of course, and work through this idea quickly. We'll see how long it ends up being. Comments are always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Where’s your tie?” 

“Good to know _some_ things never change,” Adrien grumbled beneath his breath as Nathalie looked him over at breakfast.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing,” he replied. “I couldn’t find it.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I had the valet drop it off last night.”

He shrugged, “Well, it wasn’t there this morning, so I don’t—”

Nathalie was on her tablet, typing a message. “We’ll just have to find a new valet, then.”

“Wait, you’re _firing_ him?”

She peered at him above the rim of her glasses, “We don’t tolerate negligence, Adrien.”

“Don’t fire him, I’ll go get it…” he moaned, stomping back up the stairs to his room. 

“And tuck in your shirt,” she snapped after him.

Adrien returned five minutes later and, despite the frown seemed to pass Nathalie’s inspection this time. “Better, but your hair is awful and you look like you’ve been up since three. I’ll schedule a haircut for later today, but try to get some rest at night, ok?” He shrugged and headed for the dining room, but Nathalie slapped her tablet into his chest, “Adrien,” her voice flat and sharp, “end the attitude. Don’t forget our deal.”

“Deal?”

Again, she peered over her glasses, “Isn’t it still your intention to go to art school, to be a designer?”

“I… guess…” Adrien said, playing along.

“Then you know as well as I do what has to happen for that to become a reality. Now, everything with the Tsurugis has been arranged. We’re expecting them tomorrow evening, and you will make sure everything goes smoothly.”

He nodded, not wanting to rock any boats just yet, not when there was still so much information he needed. “Yes ma’am.”

“That’s better.” She checked her watch, “You’ve got twenty minutes. Make the most of them,” she cautioned. 

Adrien ate as much as he could despite his still tender head and grabbed an extra pastry for Tikki. He collected his notebooks and bag from his room and walked out the front door to where Gorilla was waiting for him with his sedan. 

The school seemed the same, Adrien thought as he took the steps two at a time. He prayed his schedule was the same, or else he was going to look really stupid all day. 

“Adrikins, there you are—” a shrill voice made his hair stand up. 

He turned to see, “Chloe? How are y—” he cut off his sentence. Chloe looked different. Her hair was curly and almost shorter than his in a surprisingly adorable pixie cut. She wasn’t wearing makeup, her clothes were freer, and, most startling of all, she had a wide, toothy grin that made the dimples on her cheeks pop. “Chloe, you look great today!”

“Oh Adrien,” she laughed, slapping his arm. “You’re a hoot. I was just going to say that Sabrina and I finished the main structure last night and I’m having Jean Paul drop it off at your house today so you can paint it over the weekend.”

“Uh, sorry, what are you talking about?” 

She laughed again, a very unusual, un-Chloe like laugh, “Our humanities project, of course! You know, the model of the Colosseum we’ve been building for weeks? You’re ridiculous, sometimes, utterly ridiculous!” she laughed and laughed. “But anyway, just wanted to give you the heads-up.”

“Well, thanks,” Adrien nodded as she skipped away. “Tikki,” he whispered into his bag, “That was a weird thing.”

“Does it feel out of balance?” Tikki whispered back.

“Not really, just… different… kinda good, I guess.”

“It’s probably not her. Keep looking.” 

“Ok,” he smiled, still clueless as to what he was looking for. Normally, his first class was physics, so hoping against hope that he was right, he marched across the courtyard to the science wing of the building. Alya and Nino were ahead of him, arm-in-arm and playfully bickering. They were both normally in this class as well, so he tentatively followed them. “Nino,” he called, hurrying to catch up.

Nino turned slowly and arched an eyebrow at him, “Yes?”

“Hey… just… just wondering how your uh… humanities project is going…”

“Fine,” Nino asked, looking at him with a very scrutinizing gaze. “And yours?”

“Good,” Adrien smiled. “And did you, uh, finish your physics homework?”

Nino cocked his head to the side, “Of course, but since when does _Agreste Designs_ care whether or not I do my homework?”

Adrien laughed, “We don’t, honestly, I just wanted to catch up with my bro…”

Nino spluttered and Alya laughed, “Bro, eh?” she teased.

Nino turned beet red and looked at his shoes, “I… I don’t know what you want from me, sorry dude. I mean, sir.”

“Since when do you call me sir?” Adrien asked, but Nino ducked his head and marched straight into the classroom. Adrien was bewildered, and followed quietly. The room was nearly full, so Adrien took his typical spot at the front of the room. Nobody gave him weird looks, so he figured he must be doing something right. Nino and Alya sat next to each other in the back; Adrien snuck peeks at them over his shoulder as often as he could make it appear casual. They weren’t looking at him. In fact, it was almost as if he didn’t exist. Adrien took notes, but physics was one of his better subjects. Besides, there were far more pressing matters to deal with, like figuring out who Ladybug was.

He’d met her as Chat Noir, more than once. Well, considering all the people his age that had been akumatized more than once, he had his work cut out for him. He turned to a fresh leaf of paper in his notebook and started jotting down all of Ladybug’s characteristics that he could remember. 

  * Brave
  * Strong
  * Beautiful
  * Brilliant
  * Convoluted plans
  * Trustworthy
  * Creative



He tapped his chin for a moment, looked up at the teacher to pretend like he was still paying attention, snuck a peek at Alya and Nino who were both taking notes diligently, then returned to his notebook to start a new column, this one titled, “Girls who were akumatized more than once.”

  * Chloe
  * Alix
  * Sabrina
  * Alya
  * Kagami
  * Mylene
  * Juleka
  * Rose
  * Lila



Adrien kept thinking, and decided he’d better be safe and not limit himself to girls who were

roughly his same age. 

  * Bustier
  * Ondine
  * Nadja Chamack



The list kept growing until it filled the page. This was _not_ going to be easy. 

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Adrien was tempted to go home and sleep off the last half of the day, but Nathalie’s stern face filled his memory. His morning classes had all been a bust, and much to his dismay, Nino’s cold shoulder seemed more the norm than the abnormality around here. Nobody called him by his first name except that one brief moment with Chloe that morning. Nobody seemed to be his friend at all, now that he thought about it, and that was concerning to him. What did Ladybug think of him, that she would envision him friendless and in a stiff suit? His stomach was too knotted to eat much, so he took a walk around the school during his lunch break. Eventually he found a quiet corner and pulled Tikki from his bag. 

“Well, that was a terrible morning,” he grumbled to her. She offered him a bit of the pastry he’d stashed in there that morning, which he chewed on absentmindedly. “I’m no closer to finding Ladybug, and apparently I have no friends either.”

“It’s ok, Adrien,” Tikki crooned, and Adrien was glad for her friendly smile. He still missed Plagg, though. “Keep doing what you’re doing; we’ll find her. What leads do you have?”

“Well,” Adrien started, “I made a list of all the girls I could think of that had been akumatized twice. It’s pretty long.”

She shook her head, “That’s not right,” she muttered.

“What’s not right?”

“Ladybug hasn’t been akumatized twice. She’s actually _never_ been akumatized, before this.”

Adrien felt stupid. “Of course you’re right,” he grumbled at himself, “I should have remembered. Well, that’s a good thing then! The list I made has suddenly become a list of who can’t _possibly_ be Ladybug. Excellent!”

Tikki smiled and nodded, “You should make a new list of people you met as Chat Noir who were never akumatized. That’ll be a start.” 

Adrien nodded. “What about the other thing?”

“What other thing?”

“About me not having any friends. Apparently, Nino calls me ‘sir’ now. He’s supposed to be my best friend. Now all I am is a suit,” Adrien indicated his vest and tie. “It’s getting annoying, really. It’s like it was before… before mother disappeared, only worse.”

Tikki pondered that. “It’s possible that Ladybug knew you before your mother disappeared. How long has she been missing?”

“Years,” Adrien said softly. 

“Oh, Adrien, I’m sorry—”

“It’s ok Tikki, truly. But I don’t think that’s possible. I didn’t know Ladybug until I got my Miraculous, and that was well after mother’s disappearance.”

“Ok, so we can probably rule that one out, but still, don’t limit your search. Keep an open mind.”

He nodded. “Alright. I wish I knew why my life has changed so much, almost as if the last four years didn’t even happen, but I’ll just have to keep dealing with things until we find her.”

“Adrien, one last thing, before your next class—”

“Yes, Tikki?”

“I… took the liberty of heading out on my own this morning. I hope you’re not angry, but since you don’t have the earrings, I don’t really have to stay close by—”

“It’s ok, Tikki. Where’d you go? What did you find out?”

“I tried to find out if there were other Miraculous around. I looked for the Miracle Box, and I’ve got a lead. Maybe after school we can check it out?”

“Definitely, great work, Tikki!” He gave the kwami a mini-high-five. “And for the record, you have my permission to come and go as you please, not that you need it.”

“Thanks, Adrien,” she rolled her little eyes and smiled. “Now, go get yourself some friends!”

“On it,” he nodded resolutely, determined that the last half of the day wouldn’t suck nearly as much as the first. He’d made friends before; he could do it again. With Tikki safely hidden away, he returned to the courtyard with a few minutes to spare before Humanities. He knew he was definitely in the same class as before: for one thing, all his classes had been the same thus far, and for another, Chloe had already talked to him about it that morning. He wandered toward the staircase, when something caught his attention at the main entrance—a feeling, a pull, more than anything. He hung back and looked at the heavy doors.

The most beautiful person he had ever seen—at least since he first met Ladybug—breezed inside. Her hair was long—almost to her waist—and waved in gentle curls over her shoulders and down her back. She was tall too… maybe? Maybe she just felt tall… anyway, she was _poised,_ and her muscles were lean and strong. She was wearing a light pink sundress that was slightly asymmetrical so the hem danced across her knees. She also had a black jacket that was currently tossed casually over one shoulder. She was laughing, her hair rippling with the motion from her laugh, and when she turned so Adrien could see her face full on, his breath caught in his chest. He knew her, even though, next to himself and Chloe, she was the most different of anyone he’d seen all day.

“Marinette!” he called out her name. She turned briefly to find who had called her, but was distracted by a tall young man entering just behind her. She turned back to him and chatted animatedly, then reached up, stroked his bearded, leaned up on her toes, and gave him a quick kiss. The guy tapped his forehead against hers, then turned to leave. Adrien recognized him, of course, even with the abnormal amount of facial hair he’d managed to procure in this reality. He lengthened his stride to catch up to them, unsure if he wanted to talk to Marinette or Luka first. He paused, but in that second the bell rang and Marinette bolted up the stairs toward their Humanities classroom. Adrien looked out the heavy double doors and saw Luka hop on his bike and pedal away. Something was extremely odd about him. He seemed almost larger than life, though he was clearly Luka. His muscles were full and solid, his hair seemed normal, but he was… glowing. Like, literally glowing. A soft halo of light surrounded his face and left a little trail sparkling behind him. Adrien watched him go, and just before he turned the corner, the light flashed unusually bright and he disappeared. Adrien rubbed his eyes and looked again. Maybe the sun had been angled at him just right, or maybe he’d gone around the corner faster than Adrien expected or something. People didn’t glow, and they didn’t vanish into thin air. 

Adrien swallowed hard and returned to the school building, trying to shake the shivers that had just ran down his spine. He thumped slowly up the stairs to the Humanities classroom and sheepishly opened the door. He was officially late for class. The teacher gave him a peculiar look, but didn’t say anything. Adrien slid into his chair next to Marinette and pulled out his notebook.

Marinette had loaned him her Humanities notes the day before. Shoot, he berated himself, he was going to find a way to say thank you. Instead, while keeping his face toward the teacher, he quietly slid the book back to her, made momentary eye contact, and mouthed _Thank you!_

She raised an eyebrow but took the notebook. Her bright blue eyes danced and Adrien’s stomach gave a strange leap. He smiled warmly again, then tried to be extra-studious today. Marinette quietly stowed the book in her bag, which struck Adrien as odd—didn’t she want to take notes today? He tried to keep tabs on what she was doing, but shortly into the lecture, she shifted in her chair, put her left hand on her cheek, and her long hair fanned to the desk, making an effective screen between the two of them. 

Adrien pulled out his physics notebook where he’d written his lists earlier that day. He crossed out “Girls that have been akumatized more than once” and wrote “Girls that can’t be Ladybug.” Then he turned the page and started a new list, “Weird things that may be out of balance.” 

  * Luka Couffaine
  * Chloe’s hair
  * No friends
  * Marinette




	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Apparently, Adrien had never given the slip to his bodyguard in this reality, because it was almost too easy. He asked to visit the Arc de Triomphe for his Humanities project and told him he was going to sketch for a while. Gorilla gave him plenty of space, and Adrien simply walked away. The street was packed with people enjoying the view, so it wasn’t hard to blend in with the crowd. He worked his way to a quieter part of town and opened his bag to let Tikki out. She looked around quizzically.

“Isn’t this still a little public?” she indicated the group of people about ten meters away.

He shrugged, “Nobody knows about Ladybug or Chat Noir in this reality. I think we’d be safe, even if someone saw you.”

She smiled, “I think that happened once. I have a vague memory of pretending to be a cat.”

He chuckled. “So, tell me about this lead on the Miracle Box,” Adrien asked. “Where should we be heading?”

“Well, I recalled that in _our_ reality, Ladybug is the guardian, right?”

“Right.”

“Good… I almost thought I had imagined that.”

“I know what you mean. Go on.”

“But in this reality, you don’t have your Miraculous. However, there’s got to be at least _some_ Miraculous.”

“Why do you think that?” Adrien queried.

“Because Hawkmoth must still exist. Somewhere in the fabric of reality, he’s got Ladybug and she’s akumatized. This reality isn’t set in stone yet. She hasn’t accepted it, which means she’s still _her_ , somewhere. And she’s still under Hawkmoth’s control.”

“This is so weird. So, is any of this even real? Like, are we in her mind or something?”

“Absolutely not!” Tikki huffed indignantly, “We exist as much as any other reality. It’s just been shaped by her thoughts and feelings, remember? The more comfortable she gets here, the more she releases the previous reality, and the more set things will be. If she forgets the other reality entirely, if she completely abandons her Ladybug-self, then this reality will be permanent.”

“Do you think I’ll forget about her? Do you think you’ll… forget?” Adrien had almost said _disappear,_ but then decided to not jump to that conclusion quite yet.

“I really don’t know, Adrien. Like I said, I’ve only had to do this once before, and—”

“Yeah, I remember, Chat Noir didn’t love her enough and the previous reality was completely rewritten. Let’s just try to get to the part where you figured out where the Miracle Box was.”

“I didn’t figure out where it was,” she scolded, “I just think I found a place we should look. It’s this way,” she nodded, and Adrien let her guide them to a seedy part of town. In between tattered apartment complexes stood a small dojo, adorned with ratty red flags. It looked vaguely familiar, but like everything else in this reality, strange at the same time.

He walked up slowly and knocked. Moments later, the door creaked open. “Wait, you’re not my seven o’clock appointment,” a short man with a pointed beard croaked in a thick Chinese accent, “I’m sorry, but I’m not accepting walk-ins at this time. Call ahead only, thank you very much! Have good day!”

“Wait, Master Fu?”

The old man’s eyes popped and he looked up and down the street nervously, “What did you say?”

“Master Fu! I haven’t seen you in years! How are you?”

“Shh! Someone might hear you!” Fu ushered Adrien in hurriedly, flipped the door sign to _closed,_ and bolted the door behind him. “Who are you and why are you calling me ‘Master?’” he demanded as soon as he made eye contact with Adrien.

“I’m… I’m Chat Noir.”

Master Fu surveyed him. “Who?”

“Chat Noir. Holder of the black cat miraculous, partner of Ladybug, you know? Ears?” he mimicked his ears by cupping his hand on either side of his head. “Of course, I don’t look the same as before, they made me wear these weird clothes and I’ve got this awful haircut…”

Master Fu just shook his head, “You’re terribly confused, young man.”

Adrien sunk to the floor, feeling defeated. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t have any memory of the previous reality.”

Master Fu walked slowly toward Adrien. Once again, something seemed strange. His face had taken on that same glow that Luka’s had earlier in the day, and as he moved across the room, a soft sparkling light seemed to trail behind him. Unlike Luka, however, Master Fu didn’t disappear. He sat next to Adrien on the floor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I only know that this has been the strangest day of my life. I know my business, of course. I have been taking customers all day, but at lunch time two of the oddest creatures came to visit me and they called me Master. Now, you come here and call me the same. I… don’t know what to make of it.”

Adrien looked at Master Fu once more. Now that they were up close, the old man looked even more odd than before. The glow was stronger up close. Adrien resisted the urge to touch him to make sure he was real, because it almost seemed he was made of pure light, and a little of it was leaking through the seams. Adrien’s curiosity didn’t have to wait long before Fu reached out and touched his elbow softly. He was definitely real, or, at least as real as anything here was, but that didn’t make things easier. 

“The creatures who visited you,” Adrien asked softly, “are they still here?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, “but they’re very strange. They swore me to secrecy,” he shuddered, “and only said I could speak of it to others who might call me ‘Master.’”

“Will you show me where they are?”

He nodded and walked slowly to the gramophone he had on a desk in the corner. He punched specific keys on the device, and it opened to reveal a hauntingly familiar box. He brought it over to Adrien and set it at his feet. “They won’t come out unless you touch the jewels,” he said quietly. “That’s what I found out at lunch time.”

Adrien nodded in understanding. He opened the box and felt his heart sink. There were four smaller compartments, and two were empty. The first empty spot was red and spotted with black dots and had a place for two earring studs, and the other empty spot was purple and wide enough for a pair of jeweled wings. 

“Do you know what this is?” Adrien asked.

Master Fu shook his head. “I’m too scared to ask.

“This is a Miracle Box. The jewels are magical.”

“I figured that much when strange creatures came out of them,” he moaned.

Adrien chuckled. “When you wear the jewels, you can ask those creatures to inhabit the jewels and they power you up into a superhero. I’m one of those heroes,” he noted with a tinge of pride. “Or at least, I usually am. We’re facing an unknown reality right now, and I could use your help getting things back to normal.”

Master Fu sighed and extracted the pocket watch that was in one of the compartments, and Adrien quietly took the bangle from the other. He slid it over his hand and immediately the room flashed with blinding light and the two kwami appeared.

Fluff started bouncing from the furniture, babbling non-stop, “Ooh, a new reality, we snuck a peek, new possibilities, places to meet, people to explore!”

Sass was much calmer, “Greetingss, again,” he bowed to Adrien. “I wass wondering if you would come find uss.”

“Yeah,” Adrien smiled, “I’m glad to see you too. Do you remember who I am?”

“But of coursse, Chat Noir.”

Adrien couldn’t help but whoop in relief. “Yes! Tikki! Come out here, it’s safe! They remember us!”

“Remember?” Fluff squeaked, “or haven’t yet met? We knew you tomorrow, we forgot you yesterday, time is all relative!”

Tikki phased through Adrien’s messenger bag and crashed into Sass for a hug. Master Fu jumped in surprise, “I thought you said black cat.”

Adrien chortled, “No, Tikki’s not _my_ Kwami, she’s Ladybug’s.”

“I take it back, you are not the confused young man, I am.”

Adrien clapped him on the back and shrugged, “I promise I’m just as confused as you are.”

“I doubt that.”

“Maybe Sass can shed some light on everything,” Tikki smiled and found a resting place on Adrien’s shoulder. Fluff settled down a bit, and Sass flashed his little fangs at them.

“What iss it you would like to know?”

“First,” Adrien asked, trying to get the wording of his questions just right, “How can you be here? There’s no other Miraculous in this reality.”

“No Miraculous?” Fluff hiccupped, “No Miraculous, he says, ha!”

“Fluff, pleasse, humanss alwayss sstruggle with the fourth dimenssion. Good ssir, of _coursse_ there are Miraculouss here. This reality was created by Miraculouss magic; it doess not ssimply disssappear.” Adrien chewed his lower lip as Sass continued, “We’re here becausse we Time-Kwami have alwayss posssesssed the power to exisst in multiple realitiess ssimultaneoussly.”

“Of course!” Tikki smiled, “I should have known.”

Master Fu whimpered, “I don’t get it.”

Adrien ignored him. “So where are the other Miraculous, if they’re not here?”

“They exisst in other realitiess quite happily.”

“Happily?” Tikki scolded. Sass merely shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Adrien frowned, “as long as Plagg and the others are safe and ok, wherever they are. Do you think you could communicate with him? Let him know I’m ok and I’m trying to find a way to fix this?”

Fluff started bouncing around the room again, “Which Plagg? Which reality? Which time?”

“The one I left, my reality.”

“Your reality is paused,” Fluff chirped, “It is among the frozen. Cannot come, cannot go, only bounce over.”

“Frozen? That doesn’t sound good—”

“It will be paussed until Ladybug decidess whether or not to return.”

“Well, I guess that’s alright then. She’s not been roaming the streets of Paris, akumatized, doing who knows what all day.” Sass nodded sagely. Adrien continued, “So what happens if she rejects that reality and chooses this one permanently?”

Sass shrugged, “The other reality would be over.”

“You make that sound so simple.”

“Time is simple,” Fluff quipped, “Just a web of connections, hop from one thread to another, bounce bounce!”

“Ssweet Fluff, you forget that humanss cannot bounce to a new reality when theirss ceassess to exisst.”

She did some cartwheels, “Not my problem, don’t care!”

Adrien decided not to press this topic any further. He didn’t need a detailed description of what the end of his reality would look like; that was _not_ going to be the ultimate outcome. He was going to find Ladybug, he was going to fix everything, and that was it. “Ok, Sass, what can we do?”

Sass flashed his fangs again, “I believe Tikki told you everything I know.”

“Wait, Tikki, you talked—”

Sass shook his head and held up a little hand, “No no, multiple realitiess, remember?”

Adrien didn’t get it. But he didn’t question it. “How do I know what’s… how did Tikki put it… out of balance? From the other reality to this one? The weak spots.”

“We kwami cannot ssensse it, as we are magical beingss. But humanss can know when ssomething iss made of pure magic. It iss different.”

Adrien looked at Master Fu, who was listening intently and still looking as confused as ever. “Do you think,” Adrien mused, “it might appear like someone was glowing?”

“Very posssible,” Sass noted. “If that iss the casse, make note of it. You can usse all that information to extrapolate Ladybug’ss identity, find her, and convince her to reject thiss reality.”

“Ok, because I’m pretty sure I’m sitting next to one of those anomalies right now,” Adrien admitted. Master Fu looked around the room.

“Anomalies? What are you talking about?” Even as he moved his head, he left a trail of light behind him. “I thought you called the creatures Kwami.”

Adrien just shook his head hopelessly. Tikki answered this question, “Adrien, they won’t be aware of it. Their reality is being altered by Ladybug’s thoughts, but for them, they’re every bit as real as the next person. And if this reality is finalized, their future will be finalized just like ours.”

Adrien nodded in understanding. “One more question,” he asked, fearing the answer of this one—“Does Hawkmoth know what’s happening? He akumatized Ladybug and then we came here. I know his magic is still in use, because we’re still here, in this reality. Tikki suggested that should he end the akumatization, we’d either go back to our reality or we’d… you know, be over.”

Sass, Tikki, and Fluff all paused and shared meaningful looks, then Fluff blurted, “He’s every bit as aware as you are.” Adrien’s stomach lurched.

“You mean, he’s been here all day, he knows what I know? He remembers both?”

Tikki nuzzled Adrien’s cheek, “We’ll find her first, and it’s going to be ok.”

Sass nodded solemnly. “You musst find Ladybug and undo all thiss. If not, Hawkmoth winss.”

“Great. Just great. It’s hopeless,” Adrien groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“It is not hopeless,” Fluff snapped. “It’s just difficult for you to see the beginning from the end. Or is that the other way? Oh well, doesn’t matter. Bounce, bounce!” 

“What sshe’ss trying to ssay,” Sass added, “iss to remember why we even have a chance to reach Ladybug. It’s becausse you must love her, and deeply. Hold on to that love, Chat Noir. Hawkmoth will be looking for hiss victim, not the love of hiss life.”

“That’s right,” Tikki whispered. “Love always was stronger than hate.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gorilla was looking positively feral when Adrien made it back to the Arc de Triomphe. Adrien checked the time—he’d been gone for a couple of hours. That’d probably pushed the boundary a little too far for one day, and he didn’t want to raise any more suspicions (especially with that new hair-raising revelation that Hawkmoth was somewhere in this reality), so he put on a good show of thanking Gorilla for his time and protection. Gorilla merely harrumphed and led Adrien back to the sedan to drive him home. The drive home was longer thanks to traffic, and Adrien stared out the window, lost in thought. He still wished he’d brought at least one of the Miraculous with him, but all the kwami had insisted that was a bad idea until they knew more about Hawkmoth’s whereabouts, so Adrien continued feeling somewhat naked and very much alone.

The mansion was austere and uninviting tonight, but Adrien was getting past the strangeness of everything and getting better at rolling with it. He thanked Gorilla one last time and skipped up the stairs to the foyer while his bodyguard parked the car. He made for the stairs to his room, when Nathalie’s sharp voice brought him up short.

“And where have _you_ been, young man?”

Adrien slowly turned to her, “Uh, the Arc de Triomphe. Humanities project. I was… I was sketching,” he tried.

“Did you forget?”

“Forget what?”

“Your haircut! The preparations for the Tsurugi’s arrival! I cleared your whole schedule, and this is how you thank me?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry, Nathalie—”

She scowled, “Mme. Sancoeur, if you please—”

“Of course,” he corrected, “It won’t happen again.” He turned back to the stairs, but she wasn’t done yet.

“No, it won’t. It won’t happen tonight, either. Your stylist is waiting, and you’ll just have to miss dinner to make up for the rest of the lost time. I’ll see if Chef can send something to your room later.”

He rolled his eyes but nodded in acceptance. “Can I at least do my homework while I get my hair cut?”

“Fine,” she nodded, and Adrien slumped off to the parlor in the back of the house where he typically prepared for his photoshoots. The barber was waiting with shears and clippers.

“Can we keep it a little longer on the top this time?” he asked hopefully.

The barber smirked, “Monsieur Agreste himself gave me the guidelines, young sir.”

Adrien flopped in the chair, “I figured as much, but it never hurts to try.”

* * *

Tikki was studying Adrien’s notes as Adrien was studying himself. His room was mostly the same, but one bookshelf was dedicated to full sketchbooks, which he found fascinating. They were filled with people—some were simply clothing designs; others were more familiar faces. There were several sketches of Chloe, who apparently was, once again, his only friend. But there were also studies of hands, profiles, eyes, and more. In this reality, Adrien was quite the artist. While he felt like an impostor for admitting it, that fact made him immensely proud.

“Did you come up with any idea for people who _haven’t_ been akumatized, but did meet Chat Noir more than once?”

“Haven’t had time,” Adrien called back to Tikki before sliding down the rail of his spiral staircase. “Do any of the names look familiar?”

She nodded, “They all do. But I have no clue if any of them are Ladybug. But about this list… possible imbalances… what’ve you experienced?”

“So much about this reality is strange, and yet familiar. It’s like I have two sets of memory in conflict. But sometimes, someone looks like they’re glowing.”

She looked confused. Adrien couldn’t figure out how to describe things better, so he looked around his desk for the sketchbook he’d worked on early that morning. It was nowhere to be found, so he shrugged and found a blank piece of notepaper. The blue lines that crossed the page were unfortunate, but he was confident he could still get his point across. He quickly sketched Master Fu’s face. It was a sloppy rendering, and he knew he could do so much better, but he didn’t have time for that just now. He grabbed his marker set again and started filling in some colors hastily. “Their eyes seem brighter, like this. And their mouths too. And when they move, they leave light trails that kind of sparkle.” The brush nib of the marker left the perfect trail of light on his page. Tikki studied this information carefully.

“Interesting. By the way, you’re a good artist.”

“Thanks, but no, I’m not. That is, I don’t think I should be. Not in my own reality, at least.”

Tikki eyeballed him curiously, “You _weren’t_ an artist before?”

“Not that I recall. But upstairs I have books and books of sketches that are pretty mind-blowing. Do you think that means anything?”

“In this reality? I’m sure it does,” she pondered. “But I can’t tell you what.”

“Speaking of sketchbooks, do you have the book with the picture of Ladybug I made this morning?”

“No, why?”

“Weird, I thought I left it right here with my other notebooks. I wonder if the housekeeper moved it or something.” 

Tikki rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “I guess it’s possible, but we should try to find it. Hawkmoth is also somewhere out there and looking for Ladybug. We can’t be too careful.” 

“Right,” Adrien nodded. He looked around his desk and through his messenger bag once more but came up empty. “You know,” he thought aloud, “I think I might have taken it to school with me. Maybe it fell out of my bag?”

Tikki’s eyes went large. “I didn’t see it fall, but then again, I didn’t spend the whole day in your bag. Let’s make finding the sketchbook top priority tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok,” he agreed, feeling nervous.

Tikki was far more sympathetic than Plagg, and she patted his hand softly, “It’s alright Adrien, we’ll find it, and we’ll find her. Now, you’ve got to be exhausted. Let’s get some rest. Everything’s always clearer in the morning.”

He nodded tersely and went to his closet to change into his pajamas, then frowned when everything looked so odd. He shook his head at all the formal wear and grabbed the plainest pair of pajamas he could find—black silk—and put them on. He made his way to the bathroom next, and after relieving himself and preparing his toothbrush, he looked up into the mirror. While he still didn’t care for his haircut very much, it was expertly done, and he turned from side to side to make sure the barber hadn’t missed anything—

The movement made him do a double-take. He moved again. No, that couldn’t be… but it was-- “Tikki!” he croaked and she phased through the door to his side.

“What’s wrong, Adrien?”

“I’m glowing.”

* * *

_Ladybug was locked in the gazebo. He ran around the outside, calling her name, but couldn’t find a way in._

_“Chat Noir! Help!”_

_“I’m trying, Ladybug, I’m trying, but I can’t get through! Cataclysm!” Nothing happened._

_He tried clawing at the thorny rose hedge that had grown over the entrance to the gazebo, but it was no use. The thorns tore up his fingertips. He looked down at them and wondered why they were bleeding… Chat Noir’s suit was indestructible…_

_He wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was in a stuffy grey suit with a white tie. “I need my Miraculous!” he yelled to her, “I need my suit!”_

_“I can’t see you!” she cried out, her hand grasping at him through the barricade of thorns and pungent flowers. His bleeding fingers snatched at hers before her hand was enveloped in a coil of barbs._

_“Hang on, I’m coming! I’m coming!”_

Adrien woke up drenched in sweat, even though his covers had been tossed off the bed sometime in the night. 

“Adrien, are you alright?” Tikki’s bleary voice spoke from the bundled scarf on his desk.

“Yeah, just a bad dream,” he tried to brush it off, but he was still shaking. 

It was only twenty minutes until his alarm would go off, so he got out of bed and decided to climb his rock wall to work out some of the post-nightmare-jitters. 

“I had a bad dream too,” Tikki groaned.

“Really? What about?”

“Ladybug,” she admitted. “It’s strange, because we Kwami very rarely dream about anything other than food.”

Adrien reached for a higher grip and pulled himself to a resting position, “Really? That _is_ strange. I was dreaming about Ladybug as well. She was trapped in a gazebo surrounded by thorns.”

Tikki made a spluttering noise, “And you couldn’t get to her?”

“How did you know that?” Adrien choked, whipping to look at her and nearly losing his foothold. 

“I was there. I was watching from above. Chat Noir was trying to get to her, but he couldn’t because of the thorns. He asked for his suit.”

Adrien jumped off the wall and was by Tikki’s side in three enormous leaps. “That was my dream as well. I was trying to get to her. I couldn’t reach her.” He looked at his hands. His fingernails had dried blood crusted to them. “Whoa, my hands—the roses cut my hands and _look,”_ he showed her.

“Oh Adrien,” she sobbed, “does it hurt?”

“Not any more, but this… this is pretty serious, isn’t it. Whatever we just dreamed was real.”

Tikki looked at him with watery eyes, “Yes, it is. We’re still connected to her.”

“I thought Sass said that reality was frozen!”

“It is,” she thought, now zipping around Adrien’s desk nervously, “but it still exists. She’s fighting Hawkmoth’s control. We must have only been aware of it during the dream.”

“Well, then, let’s go back to sleep and see if we can contact her again!”

Tikki grinned, “I don’t think it will work like that. I think we _all_ have to be asleep.”

“You mean she was there too?” Tikki nodded. Adrien grinned, “Well, that’s great news! We can just start asking everyone if they had a crazy dream about being locked in a gazebo covered with roses last night!”

Tikki shrugged, “I hope it will be that easy. But looking at _that—”_ she pointed to a bundle of black on the back of Adrien’s couch, “I’m getting the feeling that this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

Adrien recognized it before he got there. It was certainly not the indestructible suit he’d requested, but it was Chat Noir, through and through. “She heard me. She sent me the suit. She wants my help.”

Tikki nodded, “That may be true, but… just be careful, ok, Adrien?”

He smirked, “Aren’t I always?”

* * *

The cool water felt fantastic over Adrien’s aching muscles. Maybe he was weaker in this reality, where he didn’t have nightly excursions racing across the rooftops of Paris; or maybe the day really _had_ been that intense, but either way, he was lingering in the shower perhaps a little too long. Saturdays were normally extremely busy for Adrien, but he didn’t remember the last time he had a photoshoot, karate, fencing practice, and (this was new) tennis all in one morning. He sighed and finished shaving, wishing he could linger a little longer but not keen to push Nathalie’s buttons any more than he already had. She’d snapped at him twice already for asking too many questions, and he hadn’t even made it to dinner yet. 

As he dressed in the least formal pair of slacks he could find, an idea struck him. He still had a couple hours before the all-important meal with the Tsurugis, so he quickly combed his hair and went to find Gorilla.

The man was in the garage, polishing their fleet of vehicles. “Hey,” Adrien asked politely, “I, uh, I got a call from my friend Juleka about some modeling work she was doing. Would it be alright if I go over for a bit? I promise to be back in time for dinner…”

Gorilla checked his watch and shrugged, then climbed in the sedan. Adrien gave himself a little fist-pump and hopped inside. The boat on the Seine wasn’t far and looked exactly as Adrien remembered it. Smiling at the pleasant familiarity, he walked up the gangplank and ran the bell. 

“Ar, who be callin’?” Anarka Couffaine’s growly voice spoke over the intercom.

“It’s Adrien Agreste,” he spoke clearly.

“Agreste? Never heard of ye.”

“From _Agreste Design?_ ”

The gate unlocked automatically, and Adrien hoisted himself aboard. Anarka and Juleka were waiting patiently on the deck. “Monsieur! How kind of you to drop by so unexpectedly!” Anarka’s voice was so strained and so formal that it made Adrien recoil.

“Captain,” he acknowledged, “You don’t have to be something you’re not with me. I was hoping… that is… Is Luka here?”

Anarka looked disappointed. Juleka scuffed her toe on the deck planks. Adrien felt guilty for using his father’s company as some kind of leverage, but in this strange reality where he had no friends, what other choice did he have? 

“By the way,” he added as Anarka led him down to the lower decks, “Your daughter is lovely. I know _Agreste Design_ has been looking for some new models. Has she applied?”

“Aye, but we haven’t heard much,” Anarka said, brightening.

“I’ll put in a good word. She goes to school with me, so I know a little about her character. She’d be a great fit for our team, once she’s trained a bit.”

Anarka seemed much more helpful and gave him a pat on the shoulder before knocking on the door to Luka’s room. The quiet guitar music emanating from behind the door stopped suddenly and then it slid open.

“Mom?”

“Adrien Agreste has come to visit you,” she said with a shrug.

“Uh, _who?”_

Adrien saw her confused gesture and chuckled under his breath. She stood back and Luka stepped into the dimly lit hallway. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting any guests.”

“It’s fine, I came unannounced. Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” he said, retreating back into the bedroom. Adrien saw the beautiful tatami mats on the floor, slipped off his shoes, and followed him inside. He may be completely out of his element, but he still knew you don’t wear shoes on tatami mats. Luka smiled at Adrien’s bare feet and nodded his approval. “So, Adrien, can’t say that I know you very well… what brings you here?”

Luka was busying himself around the room and still hadn’t turned to look at Adrien. “I…” he pondered, deciding it was a little too early to spout _I saw your face glowing yesterday when you were dropping Marinette off at school and I was wondering if you might be out of balance with this reality_ just yet. “I like your music and I was wondering if I could learn a little more about the guy who wrote it.”

Luka finally turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hey wait,” Adrien blurted, “Did you shave?”

“What?” Luka asked.

“You had a beard yesterday. It was pretty prominent. Did you shave?”

Luka looked extremely confused. “Yesterday? No—” he stroked his naked chin. His face was clear—not just of facial hair, but also of the sparkly glow.

“That’s so strange. Weren’t you at Marinette’s school yesterday, dropping her off after lunch?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Luka queried, “No. I didn’t get home to Paris until late last night. How do you know Marinette?”

“We’re classmates. But aren’t you dating her?”

Luka gave a little smirk, “Us? Nah, not that I wouldn’t love to.” He sat down on his bed and picked up his guitar again and started picking it softly. “I begged her to let me take her out years ago, but she kept saying she didn’t want to lead me on, she was too in love with someone else. I gave her her space.”

Adrien stumbled a bit, “You _aren’t_ dating Marinette?”

Luka chortled, “Nope.”

“But you kissed her, yesterday, at the entrance to the school. Sure, you had a beard, but it was definitely you. I saw you with my own two eyes.”

Luka looked at Adrien scrupulously, “Hey man, you ok?”

“Not really,” Adrien admitted, “Mind if I sit down?”

“Be my guest,” Luka indicated a desk chair and Adrien plopped down to massage his temples. “Sorry I can’t be of more help, but I swear I’m not dating her. I haven’t seen her in months.”

“I believe you,” Adrien sighed, “I just was hoping for some answers, that’s all.”

“Answers? To what questions?”

That was a very good question, and not one that Adrien was prepared to answer. “Never mind,” he redirected, then tried to make this visit seem much more casual. “So, you’re on tour now, right?”

“Yeah,” (Adrien felt a bit of the knot in his stomach relax. At least _that_ was still the same.) “Been out of town for a while. Tour’s great, band’s great, and opening for Jagged Stone is about as great as a young musician could hope for, you know?”

“Totally,” Adrien said. “Just wondering where you get your inspiration for your music?”

“Here, there, everywhere.” He picked out a little tune, then smirked, “Marinette.”

Adrien nodded, “She’s pretty cool.”

“Sorry man, but I don’t know you or why you came to visit me,” Luka blurted suddenly, clambering back to his feet.

“Sorry,” Adrien backpedaled, trying not to make this any more awkward than it already was. “Just a little fan worship that got out of hand. My apologies for the offense.”

“None taken,” Luka smiled, but his body language let Adrien know it was time to go. 

“Just one more quick question, if you don’t mind?” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond, so Adrien plowed ahead—“who was the guy Marinette was in love with, back when you gave it a go, if it wasn’t you?”

He chortled, “He was a celebrity at her school; she swore all the girls were in love with him so she never took the chance. I don’t think she ever let on how much she really cared. His name was… hang on…” Luka looked around the room as if trying to remember something, “Weird, I can’t remember his name. Sorry. Dang, that’s gonna bug me all day…”

Adrien’s heart plummeted. “It’s ok, no worries. Anyway, thanks again for talking to me. See you at a concert or something.”

“Sure thing.” Adrien backed out of the room and heard Luka mutter, “ _What was his name?”_

Adrien didn’t see Anarka or Juleka again and hopped in the back of the sedan wordlessly. He pulled his physics notebook out of his bag and flipped to his list of notes. It was time to start a new page, but he wasn’t sure what to write just yet. He tapped his pencil on the paper for a while. He still hadn’t written anything by the time the sedan pulled into the garage. He thanked Gorilla for his time and the ride, then raced upstairs to his room threw his notebook on the desk and started pacing.

“Why would Ladybug have Luka and Marinette clearly together, but… not? If that wasn’t Luka kissing her yesterday, who was it? It wasn’t Luka; yesterday, he was glowing. And had a beard. Today, neither.”

Tikki phased through his bag and opened his physics notebook. “Adrien? Maybe you should write some of this down. This reality is still so unsettled that we shouldn’t rely on our memories.”

He nodded and absentmindedly wrote “Luka no longer glowing, no beard.” And “Luka and Marinette?” on his page. 

“Which of the two Lukas do you think is real, Tikki?”

“Well, I do remember bits about him. I think the one you talked to today is most like the one in my recollection.”

“Mine too,” Adrien said, writing a few more lines. “It’s just so strange. He insists he’s not dating Marinette, but Marinette was kissing him.” Adrien flipped to the previous page. “I barely spoke with her yesterday, maybe she might be a good lead…”

Tikki nodded encouragingly. “She wasn’t on your akumatized list either.”

Adrien started a new column titled “People to talk to” and wrote both Luka and Marinette’s names underneath them, then put a checkmark by Luka’s name, though he still wanted to learn more from the young man if he got the chance. He also wrote Master Fu on there, and Sass and Fluff for good measure. Then he returned to the blank space beside Marinette’s name and added, “Ask about:”

  * Why was she kissing Luka
  * If not Luka, who?
  * Does she know my name?



Adrien looked at the last line for a few moments, then scratched it out. But Luka’s description of the boy she’d been too enamored with to give Luka a shot at a relationship haunted him. He softly wrote:

  * Was she in love with me?



and slammed his notebook shut.


	6. Chapter 6

“Adrien, why aren’t you dressed?” Nathalie barked, “The Tsurugis will be here any minute!”

“Sorry,” he cowered, and retreated to his closet to put on the tux laid out for him. Tikki phased through the door after he’d finished buttoning his shirt, and he held his jacket open for her. She gave him a quizzical look. “Come on, Tikki,” he prompted, indicating the pocket inside.

“You want me to hang out in your jacket? Don’t you have a bag or a purse or anything?”

He laughed, “I’m a dude, Tikki, I don’t carry purses. Plagg always hangs out in my jacket.”

“Yeah, and he also thinks camembert smells delicious. I’m _not_ spending the evening stuck up against your armpit.”

“Tikki, come on,” he snickered, “I just showered. I’ll put on some cologne in a second here too.”

“No way. I’ll stay out of sight, but I’m not going in there.”

“Suit yourself,” Adrien shrugged and buttoned the jacket. Tikki helped him tie his black bowtie and brushed some lint off the back of his shoulders. 

“You look good, at least,” she grinned. He snuck a peek in the full-length mirror in his closet. His face was still glowing, still leaving that creepy trail of light, but there was nothing he could do about that just now. Besides, the only other person who could potentially see that light would be Hawkmoth, and Adrien highly doubted _he_ would be showing up for dinner. 

He made his way down the grand staircase to the foyer and felt like he was entering a bygone century. All the staff were lining the room in uniform. Nathalie and his Father stood closer to the door. Adrien quickened his pace while adjusting his cufflinks and fell in line beside Nathalie. 

“Is this really all necessary?” He muttered, “It’s just the Tsurugis. I mean, sure we haven’t seen them since they moved back to Japan, but—”

“Hush,” Nathalie hissed at him, “Whoever taught you to speak out of turn?”

“Sorry,” he grumbled, looking at the floor.

“Adrien,” his father growled without looking at him, “I expect you to pay Mme. Tsurugi every courtesy tonight. The whole company is depending on this deal, and you will not mess it up. If you can’t think of something charming to say, I suggest silence.”

Adrien blinked back his alarm, “Yes sir,” he responded, not doing a very good job at keeping the bitterness from his voice. 

Nathalie glared at him from the side but kept her body perfectly still. How did she stand like that? Like a statue? Adrien had practiced model posing his entire life and he still couldn’t freeze like that. He smirked at imagining what his photographer would say if he marched in with his hands locked behind his back like Nathalie.

“Wipe off the grin, Adrien,” she sneered.

“Yes ma’am,” he acknowledged, looking dead ahead and trying to control every muscle with precision.

The doors opened and the Tsurugi’s footman stepped through, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I present the honorable Tomoe Tsurugi and her charming daughter, Kagami.” The staff all snapped to attention as another footman escorted Madame Tsurugi inside. Adrien’s father stepped forward and collected Tomoe’s hands.

“Madame Tsurugi, how pleased we are to host you this evening.”

“Yes yes, Gabriel, let’s not linger on niceties,” she snapped. “Where’s the boy?”

“I’m here,” Adrien piped up, feeling a little indignant over the term ‘boy.’

“Very well. Kagami, does he pass inspection?”

Kagami was standing behind her mother, and when she stepped forward and looked up at Adrien, he had the oddest sensation race through him—which was saying something, considering the last two days had been nothing but odd sensations. The best he could describe this feeling was love. He loved Kagami intensely. But it wasn’t the same as when he thought about… what was her name again? Lad…Lady… Ladybug! He tried to remember Ladybug’s face but something was off. There was nothing but fuzz. The intense love reared back up and squashed the memory of Ladybug again. It was forced, it was unnatural, but it wasn’t unpleasant, so he shook the cobwebs from his mind and smiled at Kagami.

She looked beautiful. She was dressed in a solid red gown that brushed the floor. She’d filled out a bit in all the right places and had now taken on the curvature of a mature woman, even though she was still quite petite. Her hair remained the same length as before, but her bangs were clipped bag with a lotus-flower comb, and her minimal makeup highlighted her soft brown eyes and demure smile.

“Kagami,” Adrien smiled, bowing. “Welcome.”

She curtsied a few centimeters, but it was enough to show off the elegance of her spine. 

“Yes, Mother,” Kagami whispered, “He passes inspection.”

Adrien blushed and grinned. The awkward intensity within swelled at her compliment. “Well,” Gabriel stated, “shall we go on to the dining room?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Madame Tsurugi tapped her cane on the floor impatiently, and Gabriel directed her by the elbow. Adrien hung back and offered his arm for Kagami, who took it softly. 

“You look like a princess,” he smiled. She returned the gesture. “A short princess, of course, but a princess nonetheless.”

Her eyebrows knit together, “And I thought three years apart would mature you up a bit, I see I was mistaken.”

“Come on, Kagami, it’s me!”

She gave a weak smile. After two days of all Adrien’s friends having no clue who he even was, a weak smile at his joke made him thrill with hope and pride—especially coming from someone he obviously cared deeply about. “So, how was the flight?” 

“Just fine,” she nodded simply as Adrien pulled out her chair for her. 

“And when do you head home?” With this question, she gave Adrien that all-too-common raised eyebrow that meant he’d said the wrong thing for the wrong reality. 

“I don’t know, I suppose that all depends on what you want.”

Thank goodness the first course was brought out right away—Adrien didn’t have a response to that one. Adrien thanked the server for his meal and, for the first time that night, caught his father staring at him. The look on his face was quite peculiar.

“Is everything alright, Father?”

Gabriel blinked rapidly and dismissed Nathalie from the room. Nonplussed, Adrien tucked into his bowl of soup. The adults made small talk while Adrien and Kagami ate peacefully. Every time their eyes met, Adrien was overpowered by love again, but when he turned away, it faded almost as quickly as it swelled. He found himself struggling to keep up with the conversation and decipher the meaning of his rollercoaster emotions at the same time. Thankfully, the topics were skin-deep. Adrien discovered it was easiest to focus if he kept his eyes on his plate. However, he wasn’t the only one in the room, and by the time the fourth course came out, Madame Tsurugi was a little tipsy and fed up with the niceties. 

“So, are we going to make the arrangements or are we going to just sit here in idle chatter all night?”

“Madame,” Gabriel cleared his throat, “we’re at your mercy, as you well know.”

“Very well then, I don’t see any reason to wait, I was thinking June would be sufficient.”

Kagami looked flustered—Adrien’s heart raced—, but maintained her poise, “Of this year? But that’s only three months away, I’m not sure we can arrange all the flights for the family that quickly—”

“Of course of this year, and the arrangements can be made by staff. Why else do we hire them, but to make the arrangements?”

Gabriel cleared his throat again and gave another scrutinizing stare at Adrien. “June is excellent. That will give us the remaining six months to transfer everything over. It should be seamless.”

“Great, then we’re in agreement,” Madame Tsurugi speared a potato and chewed with satisfaction. “Of course, he’ll come to Japan for the first five years, as we discussed?”

“Only after the—” Kagami interjected.

“You know what I mean,” her mother plowed on. “We agreed. Five years in Japan, then return here to Paris and this mansion.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Gabriel muttered. 

Madame Tsurugi grinned. “Well, this has been quite pleasant. I must admit, I had my doubts, but the boy seems on board, and everything will be settled within the year. Excellent, excellent.”

Perhaps it was being called ‘the boy’ again that made Adrien’s neck hair bristle, or maybe he’d been looking away from Kagami long enough that a much more genuine frustration conquered his mind, but Adrien coughed, “I’m sorry but what are we talking about?”

Kagami gasped and Gabriel’s eyes went wide, but Madame Tsurugi—who couldn’t see the warning look on Monsieur Agreste’s face—snorted, “Your wedding to my daughter, of course! What did you think we were talking about—a trip to the moon?” She laughed at her own joke, but nobody else in the room cracked a smile.

Adrien heard blood rushing in his ears. The strange emotion—the forced love tried to well up inside him, but it felt as foreign as the word _wedding._ “Wait… We’re eighteen. I haven’t even started University yet, I can’t get m-married…”

“Adrien,” his father warned.

“I thought you talked about this; I thought it was settled!” Madame Tsurugi protested. She pushed her plate of food away.

“We _have_ discussed it,” Gabriel tried to reassure Madame Tsurugi.

Kagami sniffed beside Adrien, and he turned to see her hiding her nose under a napkin. The frustration was smothered by a fresh surge of adoration. “No, Kagami,” Adrien pleaded, “Don’t cry. This is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Adrien, we’ve been betrothed for years, this is hardly new. You knew that’s why we were coming back to France,” Kagami hissed. Adrien looked back at his plate so he could think clearly.

“I-I guess, I just didn’t realize it would be this soon,” Adrien backpedaled while trying to make sense of the conversation. “Can we please wait a while longer? Until I’ve graduated University, at least?”

Madame Tsurugi stamped her foot angrily and made to leave. “Gabriel, you tolerate this kind of insolence?”

“I most certainly do not. Adrien, apologize.”

“For what? For wanting to at least graduate University before having my entire future dictated to me?”

“Excuse me,” Madame Tsurugi pushed away from the table and immediately her footman raced to her side, “I’ve had quite enough for tonight. Maybe when you’ve regained control of your son, we can discuss matters further. _If_ you can regain control of him, that is.”

“Tomoe! Madame—” Gabriel tried, but the blind woman was already out the door. Kagami stood, glared at Adrien, and followed her mother.

Adrien chased after her, heart hammering in his chest and suddenly unable to let her go, “Kagami, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you managed to do.”

“It’s not like that. I’m sorry, I’ve just been a little off lately. I don’t want to hurt our friendship.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, “For years, it’s been like this. You chase me down, I wait, you go explore your life, I wait, you experiment with school and art and I wait… I’m done waiting, Adrien. We agreed it would be this summer, and that’s final. Gabriel can find someone else to rescue his failing enterprise; you either follow through with your promise or I’m going back to find a new prospect in Japan.”

The crushing love reared an ugly head and he followed its lead. “I don’t want to lose you, Kagami. I do love you. You’re…you’re the one for me…”

Her eyebrows softened. “That’s a little better,” she muttered. “But only if you’re sure.”

“Definitely one-hundred-percent sure. I’ve always loved you, Kagami. June is great.”

She smiled, “Well then. I’ll let Mother know, though it may be too late to salvage dinner.”

“I’ll see you later, then?”

“You can count on it,” she curtsied again, then skipped off to her limousine.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Adrien felt hollow. What had just happened? The feeling, that urge to love her, dissipated. Now he wasn’t just hollow, he was quite sick. He stumbled toward the grand staircase, pausing to catch his breath, when a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, son,” his father’s cold voice leveled beside him. “I thought we were about to lose the deal of a lifetime right there, but you pulled it off.”

Adrien turned to glare at him, but then the two Agreste men were staring each other down eye-to-eye. Adrien’s blood ran chill as he recognized the shimmery glow encircling his father’s face. 

“Anything for the brand,” Adrien sneered, before bolting up the stairs to his room. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Adrien left his tuxedo in a crumpled pile on the floor. He was pulling on his boots when Tikki phased through the window. “What’s going on? Adrien, talk to me!”

“Everything is messed up! This is all wrong!”

“Slow down, Adrien, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me!”

“Apparently I’m getting married. To Kagami.”

“What? Do you love her?”

“Yes. I guess. When she was here it sure felt like I did.”

“Well, then that’s a huge sign! She’s probably Ladybug! We’ve found her!”

Adrien ignored this detail and pulled on his gloves. Getting dressed this way was so awkward and slow, and it did nothing for his strength or dexterity, but he needed his suit and if he had to put it one piece at a time, so be it.

“I need to go clear my head. We never made it to dessert, so I’m sure the kitchen downstairs is well stocked.”

“Adrien, I don’t want dessert, we need to talk—”

He ignored Tikki, opened his window with the remote, and cursed the fact that he couldn’t just jump out. There was a length of rope in his closet leftover from a photo shoot, which he coiled and tucked over his shoulder. He grabbed his desk chair, positioned it on top of the television stand, pulled his mask over his face, and climbed to the narrow glass frame. Once up there, his head swam with how high up he was, but the adrenaline was already starting to flow. Trusting the bulletproof glass his father insisted on using all around the mansion, Adrien tied the rope to the frame and slowly rappelled to the ground. He knew the mansion’s security grid well enough to dodge through the blind spots and the one tree close enough to the wall to act as a ladder stood tall and welcoming. In five minutes, Chat Noir was running through the streets of Paris as fast as his unenhanced muscles could carry him. 

After several blocks, Chat got a stitch in his side and slowed to a walk. He passed a few people who took in his costume, snickered, and forged ahead; he didn’t care. Let them think what they want to think, this is what I need right now. He passed his school, rounded the corner, came to the park with the fountain and carousel, picked a park bench, and collapsed. He fiddled with the limp belt that was supposed to be his tail, leaned back, and looked up at the few stars peeking through the light pollution flooding the Paris night sky.

Everything was all wrong. Adrien thought through his entire life. Even when his mother had gone missing, he hadn’t felt this lost. Maybe Tikki was right—maybe the strange overwhelming love he felt toward Kagami every time he met her eye was a sign that she was the one. But out here, immersed in solitude, Adrien felt nothing toward Kagami but a friendly rivalry. Without Kagami in the room, the memories of Ladybug returned. Adrien relived them, trying to remember every detail.

He remembered flying, first. Side by side, flipping and spinning and soaring through the air. He remembered the brush of her hand across his arm, the tug of her grabbing him by the tail, the smell of her hair. He remembered the timbre of her voice calling “Lucky Charm!” The memories deepened. He remembered her smile. He remembered the way her hands would soften as she helped an akuma victim. He remembered her compassion, her wit, and her grace. She was so much more than a superheroine. Adrien didn’t have his physics notebook with him, but he promised himself he’d write down everything as soon as he returned to his bedroom. _If_ he returned to his bedroom.

Adrien sat on the park bench, trying to remember Ladybug and feeling unfaithful for the words he said to Kagami, for a long time. Suddenly, a movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked at the building on the edge of the park. A string of lights had turned on and now was twinkling above a rooftop balcony. As he watched, a dark figure walked across the rooftop, leaned on the railing, and pulled her hair over the far shoulder. Adrien could just make out the profile of the girl’s face. It was a profile he knew well.

“Marinette,” he breathed, and took comfort in her quiet presence, even so far apart. While his memories from his home reality of Ladybug were tainted with fog, his memories of Marinette were exactly the opposite. He remembered every meeting he had with her with perfect clarity—the way she bit her lip, stammered, and scuffed her toe on the ground, the way her voice got strong and clear when she was standing up to indecency, her crippling insecurities about her own talents… As he watched her, he mourned the friendship he’d developed with her. Perhaps she would be one of the few who recognized him, along with Kagami and Chloe? Perhaps she would have some answers?

She was so peaceful up there. He thought about going to the bakery door—Marinette’s home had always been a welcoming place, whether he’d visited it in his white overshirt or his black mask and ears. He stood and started walking toward the bakery, then hesitated. This was a reality without his Miraculous; without Chat Noir. What would the normally pleasant Dupain-Chengs think of him?

He looked up at her again, expecting her to still be gazing over the city, but she wasn’t. His movement had caught her eye the same way hers had caught his. She was looking right at him. He froze, then slowly raised a hand to wave.

The wind carried her voice to his inadequate human ears. “Ch-Chat Noir?”

His heart skipped a beat. She just said his name. Not Adrien, but Chat Noir. She recognized him. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but she recognized him! 

Marinette pressed her hands over her eyes and started shaking her head in obvious disbelief. “Marinette!” he called to her, but she just shook her head harder and turned away. “Marinette!” She disappeared through her skylight and was gone. Chat raced to the closed bakery and tried knocking on the door, but nobody came. After twenty minutes of knocking and waiting and hoping, Chat was forced to give up. He thumped his way back to the mansion and climbed the rope back to his bedroom, completely lost in thought.

Tikki whizzed to his side the second he flopped on his white couch. “Tikki,” he mumbled, “Marinette knows Chat Noir.”

* * *

_“Ladybug, are you there? Can you hear me?”_

_“Chat! I didn’t know if you’d be able to come back. We don’t have much time.”_

_“I’m looking for you, I’m going to find you!”_

_“Chat, I can’t see you!”_

_“What’s your name? Who are you?”_

_“Chat Noir, I can’t hear you! Don’t leave me!”_

_“Just tell me where you are! Tell me your name!”_

_“Use the gift I gave you. Use it to find me.”_

_“What gift?”_

_The thorns twisting around the gazebo thickened. She wailed in fear and pain._

“Ladybug!” Adrien cried out into his silent bedroom, then crashed back into his pillow in sheer exhaustion. 

Tikki whimpered from the bundled scarf beside him. “You were there too?”

“Of course,” he muttered. “I guess we’d better write that down too.” Adrien yawned, but leaned over and clicked on his desk lamp and grabbed his physics notebook, sitting up a bit in bed. He and Tikki had spent hours pouring over details that night, filling another five pages of notes, but had ended with more questions than answers. 

“What did she give you for Christmas?” Tikki yawned. 

“What are you talking about?” Adrien groaned.

“The gift. She said she gave you a gift. It must be a Christmas or birthday gift, or something like that.”

Adrien wracked his brain on what she could mean by gift but came up short. “I don’t think Ladybug’s ever given Chat Noir a gift. Besides, if she meant something she gave me in the past that I knew about, don’t you think she would just say what it was? Like, ‘Use the hammer I gave you,’ not some code word like ‘gift.’”

Tikki thought about that. “Perhaps. Although, neither of us have had any experience with this kind of a re-written reality, so we’ll never be sure of what’s going on.”

“Tell me more about the other time this happened.”

Tikki pulled the scarf over her little body and settled in, “I’ve told you everything I know, Adrien. My holder was compromised, I did what I could, but the connection between the two partners wasn’t strong enough to make it. I ended up in the Miracle Box with Plagg for a few centuries, until the magic was needed again.” 

“But what is it like to translate someone’s thoughts into a new reality?”

She shrugged, “What is it like to remember someone’s face? What is it like to ride a bicycle? What is it like to experience hunger or thirst? It’s just part of being me; I can’t explain it. It’s just something I do.”

Adrien sighed in frustration. “I just don’t understand why this reality is different than the last, and yet so much the same. There’s got to be a connection between the glowing people and Ladybug, but I can’t figure that out. And how is it that Marinette knows who Chat Noir is?”

“We—“ Tikki paused to yawn— “couldn’t figure it out last night, I don’t think we’ll figure it out right now. How about a few more hours of sleep? We can sort it out in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Adrien murmured, and turned off his light, then stared at the dark ceiling. Eventually, something came to him.

“Tikki?”

“Hmm?”

“If Ladybug gave me a gift during the reality rewriting process, what might that look like?” 

“She couldn’t give you a gift; there’s nothing physical connecting this reality and the last.”

“What if it wasn’t a physical gift?”

“I don’t know how she could do something like that. I mean, I guess she could project some of her own characteristics or talents on someone else if she was concentrating on that, but it would be hard to say what characteristics would make it through. Keep in mind that I didn’t have Plagg’s half of the control, so the process is messy.”

“I know… but you think she could have given me one of her own talents?”

“I have no clue, Adrien, but if she were really wanting it, it would have happened.”

“Thanks Tikki,” Adrien whispered before letting the Kwami fall back asleep. As for him, he thought through this new existence and wondered what was truly him, and what was possibly a gift from Ladybug.


	8. Chapter 8

Someone was knocking at the door. Adrien rubbed his eyes and stumbled to his feet. “I’m awake,” he called.

“Adrien? You have a visitor.”

“Hnugh?” He looked at the clock. It was still morning—who was visiting him before breakfast on a Sunday? “Ok, let me get dressed—”

The door flew open and Adrien scrambled to grab a blanket and pull it up to his chest. He searched his desk for Tikki, but she was long gone. 

“Adrikins!”

“Ch-Chloe? What are you doing—”

“Jean-Pierre was busy yesterday; I’m so sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner, but I thought I’d bring it by myself! Voila!” She marched inside and plopped an enormous model Colosseum on his desk and smiled proudly. 

“Chloe, I’m still in my pajamas—”

Her eyes raked over Adrien’s body and her eyebrows lifted, “So? Anyway, I’ve got time this morning and even Miss-Bossy-Bones says your schedule is clear until afternoon; want some help painting?”

“Uh… sure,” Adrien scratched the back of his neck. “Would it be ok if I put on some pants?”

She laughed, and he ran to the bathroom and locked the door. He spent extra time shaving and brushing his teeth. When he felt he could stall no longer, he took a breath and opened the door. Chloe was now twirling in his desk chair with a huge omelet in her lap. “Finally,” she giggled, “I thought for a while there that you were going to come out ready for a photoshoot, that took so long. I hope you don’t mind, I was starving, so I had Chef send up some omelets. Your favorite, mushroom and gruyere.” He was definitely hungry, so he took the omelet and a spot on the couch. She shook her head and plopped down next to him. Her dimple moved as she chewed quietly for several minutes. “OK,” she spoke between bites, “Out with it, Agreste.”

“Out with what?”

“Something’s bothering you, big time.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adrien lied and took a bite. 

“How long have we been friends?” Adrien didn’t answer as he honestly didn’t know, but thankfully Chloe was asking rhetorically and continued, “I know you well enough to know when something’s bugging you. Something’s definitely bugging you.”

“Or someone,” he mumbled, and smirked at his own pun.

“Some _one_ , eh?” Dang, she’d heard. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You told me the Tsurugis were coming, wasn’t that last night?”

He nodded forlornly. “Chloe,” he started, hesitating, but desperate for answers, “if I ask you some weird questions, will you give me a straight answer?”

She chuckled, “I don’t know how straight it will be, but I’ll do my best. You know I’m always honest with you.”

“But seriously,” he asked again, “could you pretend for a second that I… I have brain damage or something?”

She raised an eyebrow, “ _Do_ you have brain damage?”

“I… I don’t think so, but I’ve not been sleeping well recently and I’m having a hard time making sense of things.”

“Want me to call a doctor?”

“No—” he snapped, “it’s not that bad, I swear. Nothing that a little melatonin won’t fix. I just… I just really need to talk to a friend.”

She put down her plate and fork, turned in her seat, and smiled softly. Her curly hair softened her face, and the minimal makeup actually brightened her eyes and lips, giving her a warm, caring look. For the first time since he’d woken up in this reality, Adrien wondered if some things might be better this way. He took a deep, steady breath, before launching into all the questions on his mind. “There’s this girl. She’s all I can think about. I know she’s in trouble, but I don’t know where she is or even how to find her. I’m lost and confused, and I don’t know what to do.”

The little smile faded to a more thoughtful stance. “I’m assuming that this girl is _not_ Kagami?” Adrien shook his head slowly. “Well then. That sounds complicated. What’s her name? Do I know her?”

Adrien didn’t know how much to divulge, but he didn’t want to scare Chloe away, so he decided to keep things guarded, at least for now. “Let’s call her LB. I’m quite certain you don’t know her.”

“A woman of mystery, eh?” Chloe grinned, “I’m sold.”

“I’ve been working with her for four years, and we’ve been really close.” 

“So she’s a model?”

“No,” Adrien dismissed with a wave of his hand, “Not that she couldn’t be. Hang on, I can show you a picture I drew of her, I think that’ll be ok,” Adrien looked around his desk for the sketchbook he’d used the first night in this reality. “Oh, that’s right,” he said with a facepalm, “I left it at school. Dang, I was going to look for that yesterday and it completely blew my mind. Anyway, she’s doesn’t work for _Agreste Designs,_ it’s a different job. I haven’t told many people about it. It’s kind of… undercover.” 

Chloe waved a suggestive eyebrow. “Even better. Go on.”

Adrien stood and started pacing. “Because it’s kind of secretive work, we’ve always had to use monikers and stuff. I don’t know her name, she doesn’t know mine. But, Chlo, we make the _best_ team. She’s brilliant and beautiful and comes up with the best plans…”

“And what’s your role?”

“Well, I can’t really—”

“You could tell me that but then you’d have to kill me. I get it. I mean, what’s your role in the partnership? If she’s so brilliant and coming up with the plans, what do you do? Stunt work?” Adrien paused his pacing and shot her a look. “No way, you _do_ do the stunt work! Oh this is ridiculous!”

“Hey—”

She suppressed her laughter and stood, patted his arm, and said, “Why don’t we go do some painting? You always think through things better when you’re being creative. C’mon.” Chloe seemed to know her way around Adrien’s desk better than he did, and quickly set up the model Colosseum with a cup of paint brushes and several bottles of paint. Adrien found the process of setting up his painter’s palate very cathartic. Chloe then used Adrien’s computer to pull up a picture of the Colosseum in Rome.

“OK,” she prompted as Adrien loaded his paintbrush and started doing a base coat with a light tan color, “so LB’s a ‘brilliant’ girl you work with and you can’t stop thinking about her. She’s in trouble, but you can’t find her. Sound correct so far?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his paint brush into every crevice on the model. 

“Have you called the police?”

“What? No, it’s nothing the police could help with.”

“Is she… in an abusive relationship?”

“No, no—”

“Then what kind of trouble is she in? Oo, perhaps our mystery woman is on the run?”

Adrien snorted, “No, Chloe, nothing like that. It’s… really complicated. Can you just trust that I want to help her and I don’t know how?”

She scrutinized him for a bit, “You really care about her, huh.”

“She’s my entire world. I don’t know how to breathe without her. If there were something stronger than love, that’s where I’d be.”

“What about Kagami?”

His paintbrush fumbled slightly and he just shook his head. “That’s complicated too.”

Chloe lowered her voice and placed a soft hand on his shoulder, “So, the wedding plans are moving forward, right?”

“I guess so. Madame Tsurugi wants it to be this June.”

“And you’re ok with that?”

He shrugged. “When they were here last night, when I looked at Kagami, I felt such a strong pull to her… no, pull is the wrong word… I felt a _push_ toward her. Like I was supposed to be with her, like destiny or something.”

Chloe scratched her head, “But she’s not LB?”

“Like I said, I don’t know who LB truly is, so maybe she’s Kagami. But it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel the same.”

Chloe tapped her lips ponderously, “Ok, so let’s labor under the impression that Kagami and LB are different people. You care about Kagami—”

“Deeply—”

She plowed forward, “But there isn’t a feeling strong enough in the world to describe how you feel about LB. Even though you’re her glorified stunt man.”

“Hey now.”

“Just sayin’ it how I hear it, Adrikins.” Chloe reached over and booped his nose. 

“Whoa,” Adrien gasped, rubbing his nose, “I suddenly had a memory. LB does that. She does that when I try to kiss her hand.”

Chloe blinked rapidly, “ _Try_ to kiss her hand? She boops your nose if you try to kiss her hand? Does this mean… she doesn’t return your feelings?”

Adrien shrugged and started painting again, “Not exactly. At first, she liked a different guy, and I had the feeling that she was dating around for a while, and then she said she didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“And what did you do about that?” Chloe leaned back in her chair with expectancy written across her face.

Adrien’s foggy memory made it difficult to recall the particulars, but he said, “I asked her out. Well, not really, I set up a nice dinner.”

“But the implication was clear that you wanted to pursue her.”

Adrien scoffed, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Yes, I let her know my feelings had never changed. Shouldn’t you tell people how you feel? Shouldn’t you be clear with them from the get-go?”

Chloe pondered that for a few moments, and the room was quiet except for the shush-shush-shush of Adrien’s paintbrush. “Yes, you should be clear about your feelings. When they’re as strong as you say they are, you should tell the other person how you feel, even if it’s awkward or difficult. But, Adrihoney, you can’t expect them to return them. Just because _you_ feel that way for her, doesn’t mean she has to feel the same way about you.”

“I know that,” Adrien snapped. Chloe nodded sagely, clearly not buying it. “Ok, maybe I did push too hard. But sometimes I swear she has romantic feelings for me too. She flirts—like, the nose-boop, and she teases me and calls me pet names.”

“Pet names, eh? Like…” He shot her another warning glance. “Oh, you’d have to kill me over a pet name. Got it.”

He sighed as he finished the base coat and backed off to let the Colosseum dry for a while. “None of this solves my problem. And even if I could find her right now, I don’t know if I could help her. She’s having doubts about the job, see. She’s wanting out.”

Chloe ruminated over this strange new tidbit. “Well, is this top-secret-undercover job so important? Would it hurt if she quit?”

“It’s… it’s very important,” Adrien hoped Chloe would accept that without further explanation. “And she’s the only one who can do it.”

Chloe still seemed confused, “Ok, super-important-top-secret-undercover job with no substitutes, and she’s in charge of all the planning? Sounds… Oh sweet sunshine child, that sounds simply awful.”

“Awful? No, it’s wonderful! We love it! She’s fantastic!”

Chloe pursed her lips, “You sure about that? Because if _I_ were in charge of a super-important-top-secret-undercover job and my partner kept flirting with me, I think I’d want out too.”

“I don’t keep—”

“Adorable partner. Super cute partner. Sorry.” She winked. He didn’t feel better. 

“You think… you think she’s angry at me for expressing my feelings?”

Chloe sighed, “No, I doubt that. And I don’t know anything about this girl. All I know is that we women have a tendency to take on responsibilities without really thinking through how it might affect our mental health, and then we really struggle knowing how to ask for help.”

“I do help, every time she says something! I’m always there when she needs me!”

“But do you make her ask?”

Adrien had to think about that. “I guess, sometimes. Dang, I’m kind of a jerk.”

She laughed and shook her head and stroked his arm again, “No, dear, you’re not a jerk. You’re completely normal. And she should definitely learn to delegate and share the responsibility. I mean, you _are_ willing to shoulder the burden of a super-important-top-secret-undercover job, right?”

Adrien was confident in this answer, “Yes, I want to be her equal partner. For sure.”

“So, once you find her—and I have no doubt that you will, considering how much you love her—you need to let her know that. Not just tell her, but show her. Help her come up with the plans and execute them. Take some initiative so you’re not just sharing the physical load, but the mental load as well. And sweetheart,” she leaned in a bit, “don’t let her be responsible for your happiness.”

Chloe’s words took a long time to sink in. Adrien sat there, thinking for ages while Chloe tidied his workspace. 

Finally, she whispered, “What are you going to do about Kagami?”

Adrien’s heart clinched in his chest. “I don’t know.”

“You know, about sharing your feelings right from the get-go, and being honest? That’s not just for when you want to be with someone. That’s all the time.” Adrien gazed at this strange, new, wonderful Chloe. She checked her phone for the time, then gave him a sad sort of smile. “I really should be heading home. If you need help with the detail work, let me know.”

Adrien understood that she wasn’t talking about painting. He stood and stretched, “Let me walk you out.” They strolled down the hall and to the grand staircase, her arm wrapped around his. “Chloe?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for being my friend.”

She chuckled, “You make that sound like I’m your only one.”

He shrugged, aching at the truth of her words. They made it to the foyer, and Adrien became aware of a kerfuffle at the main entrance. “Hang on,” he muttered.

The butler was standing at the front, “I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but Monsieur Adrien already has a visitor, and we have a strict no-strangers-allowed policy—”

“But I told you, I’m his classmate. I just need to talk to him for a second!”

The voice was blessedly familiar. Adrien gave Chloe a quick look before racing to the door and placing a hand on the butler’s shoulder.

“Gerard, it’s fine, I know her.”

The butler gave a put-out look, but stepped aside. Adrien opened the door wider, and there she stood in the soft rain that was falling. Her hair was damp, she was panting from apparently running all the way here, but she had a fiery look in her eyes that drew him in. “Marinette,” he smiled, “won’t you come in?”

She stepped inside, pulled a black notebook from the inside of her jacket, opened it, and held up the picture Adrien had drawn of Ladybug. “Who is _this?”_


	9. Chapter 9

“Marinette, you know Chloe,” Adrien introduced. 

“Yes yes, we go way back,” Chloe dismissed, racing to Marinette’s side and looking at the picture in the sketchbook. “Is that _her?_ ” she squeaked, turning to Adrien with a broad grin. Adrien’s eyes darted between the blonde and the raven-haired girls and made a series of non-committal grunts. Chloe turned back to the picture and gave a low whistle, “Dang, kid, you’ve got taste. And a thing for black hair, apparently.”

“Chloe—”

“Though, what’s with the mask? Does she always wear it? That’s just ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Chloe.”

“Well, nice to see you Marinette, and Adrien, don’t forget what I said. I’ll see you both tomorrow, then!” Chloe skipped out of the building, leaving Adrien spluttering in her wake.

After a minute of silence, Marinette cleared her throat, “So, care to explain?”

Adrien blinked. “How’d you get my sketchbook?”

“You gave it to me at school on Friday.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, in Humanities. You handed it to me and said thank you, but never specified what you wanted me to do with it. I thought for a while that you wanted me to look over something for your business, but when I got to this page, I just… I…”

“Marinette,” Adrien queried, “does this picture mean anything to you?”

She looked at it again, then slowly met Adrien’s eyes. She was trembling. 

Adrien ran and grabbed an umbrella from the coatroom, then was back at Marinette’s side, “Thank you, Gerard. I think I’ll take Mademoiselle Marinette for a walk, if it’s alright with her.”

She nodded, Gerard bowed, and Adrien trotted out to the front steps, popping the umbrella open. When he realized she wasn’t by his side, he turned around to see her clutching the sketchbook to her chest and huddled against the closed doors. 

“Marinette?” he asked carefully.

She looked at him as if she were trying to x-ray him. “Adrien… Wait, can I call you Adrien? That seems wrong.”

He chuckled, “Of course you can call me Adrien.”

“ _Adrien_.” She seemed so confused, so lost, as if this reality was just as foreign to her as it was to him. “My… my life made perfect sense. Everything was exactly how I wanted it, until Friday morning. I… I don’t know how to explain it, I’m sorry. But… this picture…” He could tell she was uncomfortable and the insatiable curiosity to find out why drew him in. “I’m sorry,” she started abruptly, “I shouldn’t have looked through the sketchbook. That was a huge invasion of your privacy. I mean, we don’t even know each other, not outside the few random interactions we’ve had at school. I shouldn’t have come. You… you’re too busy, too important, I get it. I’ll just be on my way—”

“Wait, please don’t go,” Adrien urged, remembering the tone of her voice as she had whispered ‘Chat Noir’ the night before. “Marinette, I don’t know what you’re going through, but…” he looked at her. She looked fragile. He held out his umbrella, “I’d like to be your friend. Would that be ok?”

She looked at the umbrella in his hand, then slowly up at him. Her lashes fluttered as she hesitated. Thunder rolled dully in the background. He waited, not breaking eye contact, until she tentatively reached up and took the offering. Their fingers brushed briefly, and a shot of electricity ran from his fingertips to his scalp. _Whoa, what was that?_ Finally, the confused look disintegrated and Marinette bit her lip. “Friends? I… I think I could manage that.”

Adrien felt heat rush from his head to his toes. It was just like the way their friendship had started in his reality, he noted with a smirk. 

“So, care to tell me about the picture?” she spoke quietly as they exited the mansion gates and strolled at a leisurely pace. 

“It’s a girl I know. I’m trying to find her. Why, do you recognize her?” Marinette shrugged. Perhaps he was moving this conversation too quickly. “I’ve been feeling the same way,” he whispered.

She gave him a scrutinizing look, “Same way?”

“My life was exactly the way I wanted it, I was happy and everything seemed perfect until Friday morning. Well,” he scratched his cheek, “Thursday night to be exact.”

She paused walking and turned to look at him. “You’re so different. What happened?”

“What do you mean, different?”

She blinked rapidly as she tried to form the right words, “You… You were always so standoffish. Now, suddenly, you want to be friends. What changed?”

Adrien bit back the ache in his chest, “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be standoffish.”

They started walking again in silence. After a couple blocks, she took a deep breath, “It’s like the world is out of whack. It’s like I have these strange memories, these feelings that things are supposed to be a different way, but that’s crazy talk. But when I look at you, it’s…” she shook her head suddenly, “…nevermind.”

“What do you see when you look at me, Marinette?”

She stopped again, turned and carefully lifted a tiny hand. Her fingers reached toward him, eventually landing on his cheek. She ran a featherlight touch down his jaw, and the electricity raced across his skin once more. He couldn’t resist the urge to lean into her touch just a bit. Ok, maybe more than a bit. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to scoop her up and hold her and feel her warmth radiating through him. He ducked under the umbrella and placed his hand over hers, then leaned forward. Her breath hung in the damp air. She was so close, so real. 

Her hand slipped out from underneath his and she was backing up, shaking her head, “No, no, this is wrong, this isn’t right.” She grabbed her temples. 

“It’s ok, Marinette—” Adrien cried, but she bolted. The puddles rippled where her feet landed. Adrien took a leap to chase after her, but in that second, the umbrella collapsed on his face. He cursed the stupid umbrella and fumbled it open again, but by the time he was able to look around the street, she had vanished.

* * *

“Tikki! Tikki, I think I may have found her! Well, that’s maybe a little hasty, but I think—Tikki! Tikki?” Adrien rifled through the scarf on the desk, through the blankets on his bed, everywhere he could think of. “Tikki, where are you?” he called again, now starting to get worried. He knew he’d given her permission to leave, but he couldn’t even find a note. Adrien started searching through the cushions on his couch, when he heard a muffled noise coming from his closet. He raced in there, threw open some of the drawers, and, with a punch of relief, found Tikki stuffed in the drawer with his socks. “Tikki! I’m so sorry! What happened? Are you ok?”

She curled up in Adrien’s hands and he walked her back to the desk. “When Chloe came, I hid in here to avoid being seen, but I got stuck!”

“You got stuck? What?”

Tikki nodded fervently, shivering, “I couldn’t phase out, and I wasn’t strong enough to open the drawer. It was terrifying!”

“I’ll bet!” he stroked her little head. “Have you ever lost the ability to phase before?”

She shook her head rapidly, “Never, unless you count where other Miraculous were concerned, like when we battled Kwamibuster. We’re not under an akuma attack, though, are we?”

Adrien scrunched his eyebrows. “No, at least, nothing more than your typical forced-alternate-reality-after-Ladybug’s-akumatization strike, you know.” She didn’t think his joke was very funny. “So,” he diverted, “what could make you suddenly lose the ability to phase through things?”

She looked bewildered, “Nothing good. I’m afraid Ladybug’s giving up. She’s accepting this reality over her own, and this is one without Miraculous. Phasing, while convenient, is something I can live without. Everything else, though…”

Adrien felt the dread sink to the pit of his stomach. “We’d better pick up the pace, then.” Tikki nodded. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m just a little shaken up. Tell me what you learned.”

“Well,” Adrien leaned back in the desk chair while Tikki helped herself to a croissant leftover from breakfast, “Marinette is a really strong lead. She came here. I accidentally gave her my sketchbook on Friday—I was trying to return her Humanities notebook, but I didn’t look at the two books very closely and she found the picture I drew of Ladybug. She recognized it.”

Tikki gasped. “So she’s Ladybug? That’s amazing!”

“I still don’t know for sure,” Adrien interjected. “She didn’t definitively say so, but who else would recognize the picture of Ladybug? Add that to her calling me ‘Chat Noir’ last night, and… all signs say yes.”

“Has she ever been akumatized?”

Adrien thought carefully, “Not that I can remember. All my memories of Ladybug are hazy, but my memories of Marinette are crystal clear.”

Tikki started bouncing with joy, “Adrien! This is great! We just need to meet her now, talk to her, help her remember what she loves about being Ladybug! I assume she’s here—bring her upstairs! We’re going home!” 

Her face fell when she saw Adrien’s grimace. “She’s not here.”

“Wait, why not?”

“I think I scared her off.” Tikki sat on the desk, completely resigned. “I don’t know why!” Adrien defended himself in a rush, “We’ve always been great friends. I don’t know why she was so guarded with me.”

Tikki flew to the physics notebook and started looking at all the connections they’d made. “You’ve always been good friends, huh? Why didn’t she go out with Luka?”

Adrien blinked a few times, “Because she was in love with a different guy, and she didn’t want to lead him on.”

“And who was that guy?”

Adrien didn’t want to say it out loud. “That was several years ago, Tikki. Things change.”

“Not always. Did she ever tell you she was in love with you?”

Adrien grabbed at his hair and looked at the floor, “She told me it was just a little crush and that it was over.”

Tikki touched his elbow softly, “Do you believe that?”

He stood and paced to the open floor in front of his couch and watched the birds that flew past his window. “Marinette is an amazing person. She’s always meant a lot to me, and I had no reason not to believe her when she said her feelings for me were over. Tikki, I want to do right by her, but she never said anything.”

“That may be true, Adrien, but if we’re right, if Marinette _is_ Ladybug and she’s had feelings for you all along, do you know what that means?”

“Yeah,” Adrien muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “it means that for four years the love of my life has been sitting right next to me, and I never gave her the time of day. It means I actively pursued her superhero alter-ego while friendzoning the girl behind the mask. It means that this reality—this world where Chloe is my only friend and I’m locked in an arranged marriage, and where she barely knows me—is far more generous than I deserve.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my goals with this story was to write something for Marichat May, as that's my favorite corner of the lovesquare. But then the plotline veered away from Marichat, and I'm afraid this is about all there is. :( Oh well. Enjoy anyway. ;)

Chapter 10

_It’s not your fault, Adrien. You’ve been a good friend, Adrien, even if she was never clear about her feelings. It’s not too late, Adrien. We’re not even sure she_ is _Ladybug, so don’t beat yourself up about it, Adrien. Adrien, you’re going to have to forgive yourself._ Tikki’s words echoed through his head, but did nothing to soothe the chasm of guilt in his chest. He darted between the shadows, enjoying the way the wind slipped over the black fabric that covered his whole body. After discovering her room was dark, he let his heart take over. He found the footpath by the Seine and chased the water flowing relentlessly toward the sea. If the water was so sure of its course, perhaps it could guide him to her as well. He followed it around a bend and under a bridge, feeling it surge forward just like his legs—when _wham!_ He collided with someone. She yelped.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” she panted.

“I’m so sorry,” he started simultaneously, scrambling to his feet and rushing to help the girl to her feet. 

“It’s ok, it’s fine,” she insisted, her long fingers interlacing with his as Chat stepped back a pace and out of the shadow of the bridge above them. 

“Wait, _Lila?_ ” Chat gasped. Her once smooth hair was knotted and ratty, her fingernails were chipped and filthy, and her clothes… her clothes had seen better days. He peeked behind her; she seemed to be camped out under the bridge with a cardboard box filled with junk and a couple cans of food. A nest of tattered, filthy bedding was piled in the most sheltered corner.

She looked around hastily, “Who you calling _Lila?_ The name’s Vixen. And don’t you forget it.”

“Lila, is everything alright?” Chat Noir didn’t like the look of her campsite, or her frantic nature.

“Of course everything’s alright! Why wouldn’t it be alright? It’s just hunky-dorey, isn’t it? Freaking fantastic, just your normal, every-day, run-of-the-mill-freaking _Armageddon!”_ Lila ranted, her eyes darting around nervously. 

“Hang on, Armageddon? What are you talking about?”

She leaned forward so she was mere centimeters from Chat’s face. He could smell her putrid breath. “The world is going to be destroyed. It’s already happening, it’s already here. None of this is real! Did you know… _did you know,_ that there’s real life _magic?”_ Chat Noir panicked. He reached out to her, but she startled and leapt backward, “Whoa,” she growled, “It’s you! You have the sign!”

“What are you—”

“The sign! The light! The glow! You’ve been changed, haven’t you? You’re one of the magic ones!”

Chat Noir’s stomach started doing backflips. She knew. “Lila, tell me everything you know.”

Her eyes narrowed maliciously, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d like me to tell you all my secrets. For what, so you can make fun of me just like the rest? So you can dismiss me as a liar and a fraud? I think you just want to shut me up and lock me away like the rest of them. But I know what you are.”

“No, that’s not it, I just—I’m trying to fix things!”

“Fix it, he says,” she laughed, high and cold, “He’s trying to fix it. The universe is hanging by a thread, the magic has been broken, and he’s going to _fix it._ Fantastic. Wonderful. What a hero.”

“Lila,” Chat insisted, reaching out to her with a steady, low voice, “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, please tell me everything you know.”

She started circling him. “It was your fault,” she whispered, “wasn’t it. Oh yes, it was your fault. What did you do? You hurt her. The creator. You hurt the creator.”

“The creator… where is she?”

Lila laughed again, “The creator is everywhere! She left her mark and abandoned us, didn’t she? Oh, she has her excuses, she blames the _butterfly,_ like we can believe that… She’s the real villain, isn’t she?”

“Lila, why don’t you come with me? I can help you.” 

“Come with you? No! You’ll abandon us just like the creator!”

“No, no, I believe you! I want to help you, I want to help this whole universe. I think I know how to heal everything. Please, just let me help—”

She took a few, cautious steps toward him, still nervous, then suddenly she started wailing and broke into a run, away from him.

“Lila! No! I’m not going to—” he chased after her. She raced up the bank of the river and onto the street, screaming bloody murder the whole way. “Lila! Lila stop, please!”

She disappeared around a corner and Chat was hot on her heels. He rounded the bend with an assault to his senses; flashing blue and red lights blinded him momentarily. “Halt!” 

“Shoot,” Chat cursed as he saw Lila standing with her hands in the air, right in front of Officer Raincomprix’s police cruiser. “Look,” Chat tried, “I can explain. She’s my friend, and I just wanted—”

The officer positioned himself between Lila and Chat Noir, looking back and forth between the two of them and taking a particular interest in Chat Noir’s full-body costume, “Well, there’s something you don’t see every day. Lila—”

“It’s _Vixen!”_

“Did you find yourself a boyfriend as nutty as you are?”

“I’m not—” Adrien protested.

“He’s not—” Lila growled at the same time.

“Officer Raincomprix?” a gentle, feminine voice said from behind the police car. All three of them whipped to see Marinette walking serenely up the footpath. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, of course, just our friend the village crazy. Apparently she’s found a new beau. What do you take of this kid, full on cat costume, roaming the streets of Paris! Betcha he has some funny nickname as well.”

Marinette looked at Chat and her jaw dropped, “Chat Noir?” He waved in embarrassment. 

“Wait, do you know him?” the officer queried.

“I… I don’t know, but he’s harmless, just like Lila.”

“Well,” Officer Raincomprix smiled, “if Marinette Dupain-Cheng trusts someone, that’s good enough for me. You’re both free to go, though please, try to keep the noise down?”

“Me?” Lila scoffed, “Make noise? Why would I do such a thing? It’s not like it’s the freaking end of the world or something. _Pathetic,”_ she mumbled as she stumbled off into the darkness. “Fix things he says, fix everything. As if. That would take something _Miraculous…”_

Chat Noir wanted to chase after her again and try to get more answers, but Marinette was _right_ beside him, and she was the reason he’d started roaming the streets of Paris in costume. Officer Raincomprix’s cruiser drove away, and suddenly the street was extremely quiet. “Uh, thanks,” he grinned at her. “I promise I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just out for a jog, I bumped into Lila, and…” She was giving him a peculiar look. “What is it? Marinette?”

She rubbed her eyes and blinked at him, “I… I thought you were a dream. I thought I was making things up. But you’re real. You’re here.” She placed a warm palm on his chest.

Chat chuckled, “I’m as real as it gets.”

She backed up into the shadow again, where a small bench was hiding against the building. She plopped down with enough room for him to sit, and he took that as an invitation. “Sorry,” she muttered, “I just… I thought I was seeing things last night. Who… who _are_ you?”

“You know. You called me by name.”

Even in the dim light, he could see the smile that danced across her face, “Yeah, but don’t ask me _how_ I know your name.”

“How _do_ you know my name then?”

“I thought I just said… hey… you’re teasing me.”

He laughed again, “You caught on!”

Her musical laughter made his heart race. “That’s right. You’re a regular comic.”

“I prefer the term Cat-median.” Her shoulder bumped against his arm and the electricity ripped up his neck. 

“So, Monsieur Cat-median, why are you stalking me?”

“Hey!” he scoffed, “I wasn’t stalking you, I was out for a jog, bumped into Lila, and then _you_ found _me!”_

“And what about last night? You were on a jog and you just randomly wound up in the park next to my house and sat there staring at me because you were lonely or something?”

He snorted, “Sounds about right.”

She giggled, “For being nothing but a phantom, you sure are predictable.”

“Phantom, eh? I like that. Chat Noir, Phantom of Darkness, Man of Intrigue.”

“And stupid puns.”

“Hey! My puns are _not_ stupid. You’re just jealous you’re not as quick witted.”

She giggled softly, then sighed. “I… I don’t know if I can trust you. I… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Chat Noir carefully thought about what to do next. She’d been so skittish with Adrien, but she was much more comfortable with Chat. Tenderly, he asked, “Would you please try? Don’t hold back, just share all your wild and crazy theories.”

She snickered, “You’ve already been talking to Lila; haven’t you had your fill of crazy conspiracy theories for the day?” He didn’t answer, just gave her an encouraging smile. She swallowed hard, “Ok. This is it. Please don’t say anything until I’m done, ok?” He stayed perfectly silent. “Ok?” Still silence. “Oh,” she chuckled, “Good job not saying anything.” He bumped her shoulder affectionately. “When I was fourteen, I started occasionally having really weird dreams. Sometimes I was flying, sometimes I could run really fast, but in all of them, there was this boy who was my friend. I called him Chat Noir. Friday morning, the world felt totally different. It was exactly how I remembered it, it just felt _off._ Ever since then, though, the dreams have picked up. Now, it’s been every night, all night, and so much more real than before. Chat Noir is always there. And then, suddenly, as if materialized from… like, magic or something, here you are. So, I ask again, _who are you?”_

Chat waited for several seconds to make sure she was finished talking. “I told you, Marinette, I’m as real as anything. You’re not imagining me.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I… I think I came from your dreams.”

“But you just said you were real!”

“It’s like you said—magic.” She huffed and leaned away from him. “Hey, don’t write me off just yet. In your dreams, tell me about them, do you feel stronger?”

“What does that have to do with anything—”

“You said you feel like you’re flying. But let me guess, you don’t have wings. Instead, you’re swinging, right?” She stiffened. Chat pressed on, “And I’m there, and I call you Bugaboo and it drives you crazy?”

“Not too crazy,” she muttered. 

Chat’s heart was racing. “No. You just _pretend_ that it drives you crazy. But then I do something like this…” he carefully took her hand and pressed it to his lips, and she automatically pressed a finger to his nose to push his face away. “Marinette…” he breathed, “I’m real. Please don’t give up on me.” Her body was trembling beside him. 

“How are you doing this?” she begged.

“I’m not doing anything,” he responded, “you are. This is your reality.”

“Don’t antagonize me—” she warned.

“I’m not! I can prove it,” he stated much more calmly than he felt—there was still a slight possibility that she wasn’t Ladybug, and if that was the case, this wouldn’t work. “Tell me about your boyfriend,” he responded.

“What? What does Luka have to do with anything?”

“Is Luka your boyfriend?”

“Of course he is.”

“How long have you been dating?” She went quiet. “And you really love him, right? He’s your soulmate?”

“Hey now,” her voice dropped, “Luka’s special to me. Don’t you be talking—”

“I’m not trying to make fun of you or Luka. In fact, I count both of you among my friends. But what does Luka do for a living? Where has he been?”

“On tour,” she answered automatically, “with Jagged Stone… No, wait, he hasn’t…”

“He _has_ been on tour,” Chat whispered, “and _you_ dreamed your boyfriend into existence.”

She stood up, eyes glinting, “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry,” he stood by her, trying to soften the tone of his voice, “I didn’t mean to. Remember me from your dreams? You said I was your friend. I’m still your friend.”

“Ch-Chat… What do you want from me?”

That was a very good question. If Ladybug had asked him that question even a week ago, he would have asked for her hand in marriage—with a long engagement, it that was too fast. Now, now he would give anything just to hear her laugh and feel her warm touch. “I want to be your friend. I want you to be happy.”

“Then why are you doing this? I _am_ happy.”

He thought about that. “Marinette, do you maybe feel like something is missing? Like your life lacks meaning?” When she went quiet again, Chat took that as a good sign. “I can help you find that meaning. I can’t promise that it won’t be without heartache, but I _can_ promise that I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.” She said nothing, and Chat, desperate for some kind of confirmation, stepped backward until he was fully illuminated by the streetlamp. Her soft footfalls followed him, and the yellow glow broke over her skin, revealing that same blazing, brave face that sent shivers down his spine. “What do you say, Milady?”

She studied him up and down, for a solid minute. He didn’t dare move for fear of scaring her away again, but just stood there—a boy in a black cat costume, who had placed all his cards on the table. Just then, a roaring motorcycle engine rent the air, as the glowing, bearded Luka rounded the corner. “Marinette!” his rich voice rang out, “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, not breaking eye contact with Chat Noir.

“It’s not real,” Chat whispered so only she could hear. “Ask him about his tour.”

She slowly shook her head, before pulling Luka’s spare helmet on and straddling the back of the bike. “You sure you’re alright?” Chat heard him ask.

“Perfectly alright. Just _cat_ -ching up with an old friend.”


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Adrien’s bed was warm and soft. The room was quiet, and his blackout shutters assured it stayed dark until he decided to open them. He slowly awoke, stretching and yawning and feeling incredibly comfortable. He rubbed his eyes and blearily checked the clock. 6:36 AM. He smiled sleepily. It had been days since he’d had a full night’s sleep, and it felt phenomenal. He grabbed the remote for his windows and held down the button to open the shutters, letting the breaking dawn send shafts of light to the floor of his bedroom. 

Wait. He’d slept all night. No waking after a horrifying nightmare. No connection with Ladybug. “Tikki?”

“Hmm?” the red kwami yawned. 

“Did you have any dreams last night? You know, the meeting with Ladybug kind?”

She was suddenly alert, buzzing around his desk, “N-no, I didn’t! Oh no, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, grabbing his physics notebook and writing the date with “No dreams” beside it. 

“Oh please,” Tikki prayed softly, “please let it just be that Ladybug didn’t sleep well last night, and not that she’s hurt… please, please…”

Adrien was pacing across his room, “Maybe I did something wrong last night, maybe I pushed Marinette too far.”

“Ok, Adrien, I’m freaking out,” Tikki trembled.

He looked at the poor kwami and held out his hand for her, which she flew to reluctantly. “Let’s try not to panic. Like everything these last few days, we’ll just have to take it one step at a time, ok?’

Tikki nodded enthusiastically, if not disingenuously. “One step at a time.”

“Hey,” he said as he thought it, “I’ve got an idea. Let me get ready for school, first, and then we’ll see if we can’t settle both our nerves.”

She smiled softly, “Thanks, Adrien. I know you’d rather have Plagg here, but…”

“Tikki,” he stroked her head, “I’m glad I’ve got such a great friend and partner.”

Twenty minutes later, Adrien was in the dining room, sneaking extra pastries every time Nathalie turned the other way. It was still rather early in the morning, but all the better to reach her. Chloe’s response text came quickly with the information he needed, and Adrien dialed the number without a second’s hesitation. After three rings, she answered.

“H-h-h-hello?” 

“Marinette! Good morning!”

“S-sorry, but who is this?”

“It’s Adrien Agreste. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah,” she yawned noisily. “A-Adrien, what are you… why are you calling me?”

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation. About me wanting to be your friend. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to do some friend things, like breakfast.”

“You… you want to take me out to breakfast?”

“Well, isn’t that what friends do?”

“No. I know no friends who wake people up at unholy hours and invite them out for breakfast. Besides, I live in a bakery. Breakfast is kind of our jam, you know?”

“Oh, I know. I wouldn’t dare take you away from the best Boulangerie-Patisserie in all of Paris at this most important time of the day!”

“What are you implying? Do you want to come here for breakfast?”

“I thought you’d never ask. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Wait—” Adrien hung up. Nathalie gave him a scrutinizing look. 

Adrien shrugged. “She’s a potential designer, on our short list for the paid internship. It’s high time I get vetting the applicants.”

Nathalie wasn’t convinced, but Adrien didn’t care. He raced back to his room, was a little more careful when gathering his belongings and making sure his bag had ample space for Tikki, before having Gorilla drop him off at the quaint bakery.

He took two big breaths before pushing the door to the shop open. Tom Dupain looked up from behind the counter where he was piping filling into macarons. “Good morning!” he called, “What can I get you today, young man?”

Adrien smiled cryptically, “I need a box of strawberry macarons, plus whatever you would recommend for the most delicious breakfast money can buy.”

Tom laughed and started packing Adrien’s macarons, when the door in the back flew open and Marinette came sliding down the stairs crying, “Papa, there’s this guy coming and if he asks for breakfast, make sure you—”

“Hey, Marinette, perfect timing! Is there something in particular you’ve got your heart set on?” Adrien grinned. She froze.

“Oh,” Tom lit up as he looked from his daughter to Adrien, “you know my Marinette?”

“Yeah, we’re classmates, and she’s sportingly agreed to be my breakfast companion this morning.”

“Ooh, like a _date?_ ” Tom waggled his eyebrows at Marinette, who rolled her eyes. 

“No,” Adrien chortled, “just two friends hanging out and eating croissants. Besides,” Adrien added, handing a stack of bills to Marinette’s father, “Marinette’s got a boyfriend, and I would never want to interfere with her happiness.”

Tom took the money and extracted Adrien’s change from the till but gave a strange look to Marinette. “You don’t have a boyfriend.”

Marinette went beet red and stammered, “Well… I mean… oh this is a nightmare.” She grabbed the boxes of food Adrien had just purchased and marched out the front door of the bakery with Adrien in tow. He flashed one last winning smile to Tom, who gave him a thumbs-up, before the door swung shut behind him.

Marinette stomped her feet as she walked, “What are you _thinking?_ Ambushing me in the wee hours of the morning—”

“I’d hardly call seven the _wee_ hours of the morning—”

“Buttering up my diehard romantic father—”

“Just frequenting my favorite bakery—”

“Announcing to the world that I have a _boyfriend--”_

“Hey, it’s not my fault you haven’t told your parents about Luka; he’s kissing you on school property, it’s not like it’s that big of a secret—”

She stopped suddenly and spun around, glaring at Adrien, “What do you want from me, Adrien?”

He flashed his most disarming smile and she blushed, “I just want to be your friend!” Adrien picked out chocolate croissant and took a huge bite, then moaned as the delicate pastry and rich, creamy center melted over his tongue. “And I really, _really_ love your dad’s baking.” 

Marinette’s little tirade had ended in the park, and she sat down with a harrumph. She opened the box and looked over the pastries her father had packed, then smiled despite herself. “You got strawberry macarons. That’s my favorite flavor.”

Adrien sat next to her, “Really? I have a friend who _adores_ strawberry macarons and has been begging for them for days. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to load up on her favorites.”

“ _Her?_ So… you have a girlfriend too?”

Adrien chuckled, “No, she’s not a girlfriend. Just… really awesome. I’d love to introduce you someday.” Marinette picked out a cheese Danish and started nibbling. “And Marinette,” Adrien continued, “if you really don’t want to have breakfast with me, that’s ok. But I really do want to be your friend.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “I guess I can let it slide, just this once. You know, if your friend doesn’t mind.”

Adrien leaned back and exhaled in relief, “She definitely doesn’t mind.” 

Marinette got a pensive look, “And what about your fiancée?”

Adrien’s stomach clinched, “Oh… uh… Kagami? Hey, how’d you find out she’s my fiancée?”

Marinette blinked rapidly, “I just assumed—you’ve been a couple for so long, that…”

“It’s ok,” Adrien tried to smile, “it’s just pretty new.”

She chuckled, “Well, not _that_ new, I mean, from what I remember, you’ve been in love with her for years.”

“What makes you say that?”

Marinette shrugged, “You’ve never dated any other girls that I know of.”

Adrien recognized the need to be extremely cautious in what he said, but he didn’t want to miss this opportunity, “You paid attention to who I was dating?”

She blushed furiously, “Well, n-no, n-not really…”

“It’s ok, Marinette,” he chuckled, “I know how much the media loves to speculate about me. The dashing young son of the reclusive millionaire fashion mogul, tragically losing his mother at the delicate age of thirteen, now eager to try his hand at a normal life at the local school where any girl has a chance… not that he’s dating _them,_ no, he’s _standoffish…”_

She scoffed, “Adrien, that’s not what I meant—”

“It’s ok, you weren’t wrong in your assessment. I haven’t been the friend I should have been. I took those closest to me for granted, and fully deserve to be entering an arranged marriage and hardly any friends at the age of eighteen.”

“A-Arranged marriage? I thought you and Kagami were in love!”

He shrugged, “Kagami is someone I care about deeply, but I’ve never been in love with her.”

Marinette closed her eyes briefly and her face looked pained. Adrien hoped her memory was sparked. “When… when we were fourteen,” she whispered, “I bumped into you at the Grevin Wax Museum. Do you remember that?”

Adrien remembered like it was yesterday. “Yes.”

“You told me you were in love with Kagami. Then you started dating her. That’s when we stopped speaking.”

Aha. That was the moment, then. Marinette had been in love with him, and he’d broken her heart. What had he said, though? Adrien racked his brain, trying to remember the wording. “I didn’t say I was in love with Kagami.”

“But you said—”

“I told you that the girl I loved didn’t care much for my jokes.”

“And that’s—”

“Not Kagami.” Her eyes went wide as she looked at him for several moments. He kept his features soft. Something unspoken passed between them as they both relived that day at the museum, trying to envision the others’ perspective. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching so he could pat her wrist, “it’s almost school time. But if you’re game, could I come by tomorrow for more pastries and conversation?”

She gave a tiny nod and Adrien walked quietly beside her until they reached the school. She gave him another analyzing look, and said, “I may have misjudged you, Adrien Agreste.”

Her features were soft and welcoming, but Adrien had learned his lesson the previous day and didn’t try to move in closer, but rather just smiled and turned for his physics classroom as she skipped up the stairs to her first class of the day. With a few minutes to spare, Adrien hid in the corner and opened his bag. Tikki winked at him. “Slow and steady wins the race!” she squeaked, before diving into her box of strawberry macarons.

“Hey, uh, Adrien!” a deep voice called. Adrien stepped out of the shadow to see Nino sauntering up. Adrien watched as Nino started glowing. It was brief and didn’t linger like some of the other people he’d seen, but his eyes and his mouth took on that sparkly light to them. It danced around his head, swirled upward, and then faded to an almost imperceptible level. “Hey, uh, sorry we haven’t really… what I mean to say is… I’m having a get-together this weekend, just a bunch of friends from class and stuff, and I was wondering, would you like to come?”

Adrien’s face split in a grin, “Yeah, dude, I’d love to.”

“It’s not going to be anything formal, just some music and some food.”

“That sounds perfect,” Adrien smiled.

“You can bring someone, if you want,” Nino added. “A lot of people there are couples, but that’s not a requirement.”

“I’ll see how it goes,” Adrien shrugged. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Nino adjusted his ballcap nervously, “Yeah, sure thing. I… just had this… I just felt like maybe you’d like to come. Not that we’ve ever been particularly close, but it suddenly felt like the right thing to do, you know?” Nino cocked his head to one side, leaving a streak of light behind him.

“Yeah,” Adrien smiled, trying to hide his intrigue, “I know exactly what you mean.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Adrien stole another quick glance at Marinette before adjusting his sketch to accurately portray the curvature of her jaw. He realized with a little skip of his heart that she had a smattering of delicate freckles under her lower lashes and added them to the sketch. She was fervently taking notes, and he knew he should be as well, but he couldn’t help it. In this new reality, he found himself noticing details about people he never had before—like how their nose bulged a little in the middle, or how the wrinkles on their forehead crunched when they smiled, or the way their throat came to a point just above their sternum. Add to that Adrien’s fascination with Marinette, and there was simply no hope for his Humanities notes. Instead, he had nestled his sketchbook in a binder and was well on his way to a covert rendering of the left side of her face.

“Adrien?” the teacher’s voice snapped him to attention. Thank goodness he moved on, “Juleka? Pierre? Anyone know the answer?”

Marinette gave Adrien a quick glance, and when it was clear he had not been paying attention, she raised her hand and confidently answered, “They’re called flying buttresses because they’re hollow, not solid to the ground.”

“That’s right,” the teacher continued with the lecture, flipping through slides of European cathedrals. After a few moments, once the teacher was back into his rhythm, Adrien slid his chair closer to Marinette’s.

“Thanks,” he breathed. She hastily scribbled on the corner of her notebook:

_You’re welcome. Pay attention._

He chuckled and penned back: _Trying._

Her hand flew across the page: _Will you at least let me see, considering it’s of me?_

Dang, he hadn’t been as covert as he thought. He angled the binder so she could see the sketch book out of the corner of her eye. She quickly wrote: _You’re better than I realized._

Adrien responded: _I’m a man of many talents._

She smirked, repressed a laugh, and pulled her notebook back so she could return to her dedicated notetaking. However, before fully engrossing herself in her studies, she pulled her hair to the right side, clearly allowing Adrien a clearer view of her profile. He grinned broadly, retrieved the binder, and finished outlining Marinette’s cheekbone and freshly uncovered ear. Adrien penciled in the small black stud earring she was wearing and was about to finish the wave of her hair behind her shoulders, when the classroom door unexpectedly flew open.

“Excuse me!” the teacher protested, “We’re in the middle of class!”

“I’m sorry, Monsieur,” the headmaster was accompanied by none other than Gabriel Agreste himself, “but I need you to dismiss Adrien Agreste immediately.”

The room fell silent and Adrien felt the eyes of the entire class on his back. He blinked for a few seconds, then stood and quietly filled his messenger bag with his supplies. He caught a brief glance of Tikki, who gave him a wide, worried look, before he zipped up the bag, thanked the teacher, and followed his father out the door.

“What’s wrong, Father?” Adrien asked as soon as he felt comfortable.

“You have a photoshoot, now.”

“A… A photoshoot? At this time of day? You’ve never interrupted my school schedule for a photoshoot, especially not when the sun is fully up and the lighting will be weird—”

“You’ll do a photoshoot when I say you’ll do a photoshoot,” Gabriel stated. “Out of curiosity, who was that girl you were sitting next to in class?”

“Uh,” Adrien found himself unexpectedly protective of Marinette, but knew his father had other means of figuring out the information he desired, “that’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You’ve met her—” Gabriel gave him a side-eye, “maybe. I thought you had. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“And the boy with the ball cap and glasses?”

“Nino Lahiffe.”

They made it to his father’s limousine, and he knocked on the window so Nathalie rolled down the screen. “Nathalie, please invite Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Nino Lahiffe to this afternoon’s photoshoot.”

“Oui, Monsieur,” she smiled, tapping notes in her tablet. The driver started down the road. “Would they be coming as onlookers or press?”

“Models,” Gabriel stated firmly.

Nathalie looked surprised, but quickly got over the unusual request. “Shall I offer them the standard contract?”

“Just make it happen,” Gabriel grunted, “no matter the cost. But be creative. Certainly, two no-name teenagers will not break the bank.” The partition hummed as it shut.

Adrien had to admit—posing for a photoshoot with Marinette and Nino was the most exciting prospect to ever come from his modeling career, but he was skeptical. “Um, Father?” he whispered, “Why are you taking on two new models that have no experience or training?”

“Who I hire is my own business, Adrien. But since I expect you to start taking on more and more of the company, I’ll just say that they had the look I was going for.”

Adrien shrugged, still skeptical, but not wanting to push his father on this one, not when he had a much more pressing topic to discuss. “Father,” he spoke clearly and carefully, “could we… could we discuss the plan with the Tsurugis again? I know the wedding is scheduled for June, but I’ve been thinking about it more and I just don’t feel comfortable getting married so young. Besides, it’s sort of unethical, tying business deals to someone’s personal life like that—”

Gabriel cleared his throat, “Adrien, you’ve been with young Mademoiselle Tsurugi for years. Don’t get cold feet now.”

“I’ve _not_ been dating her for years, we’re just friends. In fact, there’s another girl—”

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I neither need to know nor care about your personal life. Take a mistress if you must. But the plan is moving forward, and I expect you to hold up your end of the deal.”

The suggestion that Adrien plan on being unfaithful to his wife made his blood boil. “Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why should I hold up my end of the deal? Or should I say, _our_ end of the deal? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the only one who benefits from this arranged marriage. You get a big influx of cash for your business, a new board of trustees who will ensure you get all the benefits you want from an early retirement, even Mother’s mansion to successfully stay under the Agreste name for the next generation. But what do I get? Early marriage to a—while very sweet and pretty—girl not of my choosing, my career and future dictated to me, five years in Japan, and then what? Raising babies we’re forced to create to carry on the great _Agreste Design_ empire?”

“Hold your tongue!” Gabriel snapped and let his open hand fly. It connected with Adrien’s cheek, which immediately flamed red. Adrien cradled his face as Gabriel flexed his hand and looked out the window. “Perhaps someday,” Gabriel spoke in a measured tone, “you will understand the sacrifices I’ve made for my company and for you. Perhaps someday you’ll be grateful. Until then, though, you’ll do as I say under the assumption that I know best; because, believe me, I know best.”

Adrien scoffed quietly, “Hit me all you like, Father. You can call Madame Tsurugi and explain you lost control of your rogue son, or I will tell Kagami myself; it doesn’t matter to me. I will not be getting married in June.”

Gabriel examined his red-cheeked son. “You’re not a hero, you know.” His choice of words made Adrien smirk in irony. “You think you’re some kind of martyr, sacrificing everything in the name of freedom? All you’ll accomplish is your own self-defeat, as well as laying off hundreds of employees, many of whom have been family friends for generations. What I’m offering is security, not just to you, but to Mademoiselle Tsurugi, our employees, our models, our _design interns…_ ” Marinette’s face flashed across Adrien’s vision. His father wasn’t… that wasn’t… that wasn’t a _threat,_ was it? “We’re on the same team, Adrien,” Gabriel continued sedately. “Neither of us is interested in seeing any one of these team members unemployed or worse—” it _was_ a threat! “—so why don’t we just keep our options open, and we’ll see how we’re feeling after this photoshoot, alright?”

Adrien couldn’t come up with a retort hot enough, so he just chewed his tongue until the limousine came to a stop in front of the _Agreste Design_ main studio. He reached for the door, but Gabriel pressed a palm to his son’s chest and forced him back to his seat. 

“Adrien, I did have a question for you, though.”

“What’s that?” Adrien groaned.

“The model Colosseum you painted; what was the medium you built it out of?”

“Uh,” Adrien scratched the back of his neck, heart racing, “I dunno, Chloe and Sabrina built the structure, I just painted it.”

“Is that so? You were there, though, surely you remember _something_ about it…”

“It was some kind of plaster,” Adrien made up, “but I don’t remember the brand.”

“Interesting. And what was the meal again that you enjoyed at Le Grand Paris while you were building the model? You were so enthusiastic, I thought I might ask Chef to make it more often…”

Adrien’s instincts screamed at him to lie as convincingly as possible. “Sushi, of course. You know Chloe’s distinct preferences.”

One glance at Gabriel’s face told Adrien he’d said the wrong thing. “Really? Interesting. Perhaps I’ll have Nathalie phone Jean-Pierre about it. You’re _certain_ it was sushi? I thought you’d said crepes and mushroom pâté.”

“Oh, well, it could have been that. I wasn’t paying much attention to the food. You know me, when art’s around…” _Shut up, Adrien!_ His Chat Noir side was howling in fury at his pathetic response.

“I do know you when art’s around, which is why I find it strange that you can’t remember the brand of plaster used or the meal you ate last Thursday night. Oh well. I suppose we all have faulty memories occasionally, am I correct?”

“Sure,” Adrien replied, reaching for the door handle again, this time successfully exiting the limousine. Chills made the hair on his neck stand up. Adrien lengthened his stride and made it to his dressing room in good time. As soon as he was alone and the door was locked behind him, he opened his messenger bag. Tikki flew out and nuzzled his bruised cheek. 

“Adrien! You’re so brave!” she squeaked.

He shook his head, “No, I’m an idiot. But that… that conversation… Tikki, I don’t know how, I don’t know what, but I think my Father knows something.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Quit saying it’s ok! It’s _not_ ok!”

“I’m sorry, Adrien, but it’s what Monsieur Agreste _himself_ designed, and it’s what’s on the docket for today! He pushed this through design and production in three days and there’s simply nothing any of us can do about it, so put the garment on already! You have three minutes!”

Adrien growled as he looked at the garment. It wasn’t that it was ugly; quite the opposite. It was a form-fitting suit, black, sleek, and, from the feel of it, made from Italian wool. The problem Adrien had was with the neon green paw print on the back of the jacket. 

“Thea,” Adrien asked his assistant a little more gently, “Why the paw print?”

Her brow knit, “Something about an upcoming movie that Thomas Astruc is working on… some superhero thing, I don’t know the details. I only know that _Agreste Design_ was selected as the design team for the movie, and so Gabriel put together a few pieces to help with the story boards. But that’s all in your non-disclosure-agreement, if you’d read it,” she glared at him further.

Adrien still thought this was awfully fishy, and Adrien wouldn’t be comfortable until he figured out why. However, there wasn’t much he could do about this at the time being, so he grumbled to himself, put on the jacket, and walked to the studio hall.

Giuseppe, his photographer, was still setting up the set and muttering under his breath, “Why in the afternoon? Why not at sunset? They insist on these outdoor scenes and then grumble at me when the models are all washed out… Oh, hello Adrien,” he smiled weakly. 

“Hello Monsieur,” he responded mechanically. 

“Giuseppe,” Thea called, holding the microphone of her headset to prevent her from screaming into whoever-was-listening’s ear, “Monsieur Agreste has chosen a few more models. They’re going to be a few more minutes. Also, Adrien, you’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Adrien groaned again, “Seriously? I’ve already done foundation and eyeliner—” 

“The producers of the movie want something more convincing.”

Adrien stomped toward hair and makeup. He slid in his chair and the team started fussing over him. After a few minutes, Adrien overheard a shrill voice from outside the tent, “I’ve got nothing against your stupid gag order; I just don’t trust you guys not to try to sneak something in the fine print that my best friend might have missed!”

“Alya!” Adrien called from his seat, which made the team working on his face grumpy.

She turned at the sound of her name and squinted at him. “Oh, hello,” she responded tersely. “Did you know they’re making Nino and Marinette sign some long-winded NDA for this shoot?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “they made me sign one too. It’s standard procedure when we’re working with other corporations on designs that can’t be released to the public.”

Alya turned back to Thea, who was looking completely exasperated, “Will you at least let me read it, so I can warn her of any hidden jargon, like signing away her firstborn or something?”

“Look,” Thea huffed, “the only way I can let you read the NDA is if you sign one yourself.”

Adrien thought for a second, “Thea, what about that fourth female garment I saw in the dressing room? Don’t we need someone for that?”

Thea looked back and forth between Adrien and Alya, sighed again, and mumbled, “I’ll ask Monsieur Agreste.”

Adrien shot a thumbs-up at Alya, who rolled her eyes surreptitiously and went to find a place to sit while she waited. Adrien’s primary concern remained Marinette’s comfort and safety, as well as figuring out exactly what his Father knew, and having Alya on the set today might just help with both. Apparently, his tactic worked, because a few minutes later, Thea came back and ushered Alya to a changing room with a clipboard full of papers in her hand. Adrien smiled, leaned back, and let the makeup artists complete their work. When they finished and backed off, he snuck a peek in the mirror and gasped. They’d painted an edgy, streaky mask in thick black makeup over his eyelids and the bridge of his nose, and then nestled two leather ears into his hair. Adrien was terrified at the implications of the outfit, but Thea was suddenly by his side, tapping her watch and ushering him back to the set. They did a few solo shots while they waited for the others to finish hair and makeup. It took all of Adrien’s training to look relaxed while he was so anxious.

Nino and Alya were the first two to arrive on set. Nino was wearing a similar suit to Adrien’s, only forest green and with a shell pattern on the back. He was grinning like an idiot—a stark contrast to Alya’s suspicious face. She was in an orange and white short-legged romper that had a deep-V neckline, strappy sandals, and wore an abundance of gold jewelry. Her hair was mostly down, except for two pointed buns right on the top that looked like fox ears. She also had a painted-on mask that swirled around her eyes mysteriously. Neither one of them looked concerned about their outfits; Alya was only interested in finding her friend. 

“Adrien, I _know_ you had something to do with this—” Alya pounced before even greeting the photographer, “—and I’m warning you now…”

“Chill out, Als,” Nino crooned. “Do you _know_ how much they’re paying us for this one photoshoot? Just relax and enjoy it! Smiling for a camera for a few hours in exchange for—” 

“You’re not the least bit suspicious?” Alya wheeled on her boyfriend, “We have no training, no experience, and just get picked out of the blue by Gabriel Agreste to stand as models for—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—a huge movie deal?”

Nino’s grin widened, if it were possible, “I know, right? So cool! I had my doubts about you, dude,” Nino turned to Adrien and clapped his shoulder, “but this is just awesome.” Nino strode off and started talking to Giuseppe while Alya gave Adrien an austere look.

“Well,” she made air quotes, “‘fully funded blog’ or not, I still think you’re acting weird.”

Adrien gave her one of his disarming smiles, “I’m glad to hear it. I’d hate to be predictable, especially with Paris’ next great investigative reporter on the case.”

She frowned, “How did you know I’m way into journalism?”

He chuckled, but didn’t get a chance to answer, as Marinette hesitantly entered the set. Adrien’s jaw hit the floor. She was _stunning_. Her outfit was a bit more complicated than the others, which was probably why she’d taken longer to get ready. She wore a skin-tight red and black polka dotted dress, tall black boots, and long black gloves. Her hair had been artfully teased into two low buns, and her makeup mask included long gold eyelashes that made her bright blue eyes pop. If there had been any lingering doubt that this was the girl Adrien had been looking for, it was gone now. 

“L-L-Ladybug?” he gasped, racing to her side.

She laughed nervously, “That’s what they tell me, though I’m not sure who thought a ladybug-inspired superhero was a good idea. If it’d been me, I’d have picked something more ferocious, like a wasp or a snake or something…”

Adrien chortled, trying to regain his composure and kicking himself for his gaffe. “Ladybugs are good luck, though.”

“Good luck, huh? Well, that’s a good thing. I’m going to need it today,” she said, pointing to the camera.

“Nah, just smile and be yourself. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Alya approached just then and linked arms with her friend. “Mari, you look _stunning._ Though I’m glad you got stuck with the tight dress, not me.”

Marinette laughed. “It’s ok, for some reason, I’m actually really comfortable with skin-tight polka dots. Maybe that’s weird, but it’s… it’s familiar, I guess.”

Adrien grinned at that comment and introduced the two ladies to the photographer. The photoshoot started innocently enough, with Giuseppe directing the group in how to stand and how to move. After forty minutes or so, he declared Nino and Alya finished and free to go, and suddenly Adrien and Marinette were alone on set. 

“Ok,” Giuseppe said, looking over some of his notes, “Apparently Astruc wants some very specific poses, so just go with me on this. The first one, Adrien, I need you to take this rose and offer it to Marinette on one knee. Marinette, you fold your arms and turn slightly away, like you’re playing hard to get.”

Adrien swallowed hard, took the red rose, and looked at Marinette’s unsure face. He got down on one knee and tried to smile, but it was hard to focus with his heart hammering like that. “Good!” Giuseppe coached as Marinette turned away from Adrien with her arms folded. Did she recognize it? 

“That was excellent. Next, bump fists like you just scored a major victory.” 

Marinette’s eyes remained wide and confused. Adrien whispered, “Pound it.” 

“Perfection! Ok, last but not least, Adrien, take her hand and almost kiss it. Marinette, push him away by the nose.”

Adrien made to take her hand, but she froze and shook her head. “No,” she whispered, “no, it can’t be.”

She started backing away. “Marinette?” Giuseppe called, “are you uncomfortable with that pose?”

She looked at him and calmly asked, “Do you have what you need to give to Astruc?”

He shrugged, “I was asked to get this last shot, but I suppose what we have will work—”

“Then I thank you for your time. If Astruc is unhappy with missing that one shot, feel free to dock it from my pay.”

She turned and marched toward the dressing tent. Adrien gave a weak smile to Giuseppe and raced after her. “Marinette? Marinette, I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were going to do this—”

She wheeled on him with those famous blazing eyes, “You’re Chat Noir, aren’t you.”

“Uh… wh-what are you talking about?”

“See, anyone else wouldn’t have even recognized the name. What did you do, spy on me? Where did I slip up? I don’t recall telling anyone about those dreams ever, and most _certainly_ not about the red and black polka dots, but you… you sure did your research. How long has it been going on? Wait, I’m not sure I want to know—”

“Marinette! Please, wait!” Adrien called after her as she continued her beeline for the dressing room. “Ok, you’re right. I’m Chat Noir, but I didn’t set _any_ of this up. I swear, I am as surprised as you are!”

“Ok then,” she halted again, “if you didn’t put me in this,” she waved her hand at her intoxicating outfit, “then who did? You’re the one who was drawing pictures of Ladybug, you’re the one who’s been stalking me as Chat Noir—”

“I’d hardly call being in the park when you came outside one evening and then the next day you running into me while I was being accosted by an officer _stalking—”_ she glared as he pressed on, “—but I could see how you would feel that way. But Marinette, dig deep. You know you trust me; you feel that in your gut. You also know that there’s someone else who could know about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Try and picture him. Try and say his name.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in fear, “H-H-Hawkmoth,” she breathed.

Adrien nodded. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to stop him.”

She chewed her lip. “You’re crazy, you know?”

“Yeah, certifiably so. But… do you believe me?”

She pondered, looking him over, then slowly fingered the leather cat ear in his hair. “It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense.” It was a statement, not a rebuttal. She finally sighed. “I don’t know what to think. But… I want to try.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand gently. “That’s all I ask.”

“I need to go home,” she whispered. 

“Fair enough,” he responded, releasing her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, though?”

She gave him a cryptic smile and vanished into the dressing room. He pumped his fist at the victory and ducked into his own space. Tikki popped her head out of the messenger bag and, upon discovering that Adrien was alone, flew up to sit on the vanity where he placed the jacket he was wearing. 

“She’s definitely Ladybug,” Adrien said with a grin, “and she’s open to listening to me.”

Tikki sighed in relief. “That’s excellent news!”

“Unfortunately, that’s the good news, and now for the bad: Hawkmoth is on to me, and there’s only three people I can think of who would have that much control over this photo shoot: Giuseppe, Astruc, or my Father.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Remember, keep a level head about this,” Tikki whispered from Adrien’s messenger bag. “There may be a logical explanation.”

Adrien nodded imperceptibly and waved to one of the interns that happened to be looking his way. A minute later, Giuseppe emerged from the director’s office, his camera bag strung over his shoulder, and Adrien fell in stride beside him. “Hey, Giuseppe, that was an interesting photoshoot today, wasn’t it? I don’t remember doing anything quite like that before.”

Giuseppe raised an eyebrow in that now-famous-alternate-reality style, but he also shrugged, “I just do what they ask. It’s not much different than photographing an upcoming line. They tell me what they’re going for, I do my best to achieve it. But since when are you so interested in that?”

Adrien smiled nonchalantly, “I’ve _always_ been interested in it, and more so now that I’m getting closer to taking over the empire. So, those last few poses, the masks, the models… pretty edgy choices, don’t you think? Going with kids from the local lycée rather than professional models?”

Giuseppe shrugged again, “Like I said, my job is to take the photos, not ask questions.”

Adrien didn’t feel like he was lying, and considering Giuseppe was pretty low on his list, he just smiled, nodded, and said, “Well, thanks anyway. You always make great art.”

“I try,” he smiled, blinking into the bright afternoon sunlight, before climbing into his car and heading home.

“Did you get it?” Adrien whispered.

“I think so,” came Tikki’s reply.

* * *

Chat Noir had been paying attention for four years. Superpowers or not, he’d become a master of stealth and strength. Chat staked out Thomas Astruc’s home just outside Paris until he was absolutely certain Astruc was home and getting ready for bed. He dodged between shadows and over the gate. He climbed up the wall to Astruc’s window and knocked softly. Even with such a gentle sound, Astruc yelped. Chat wedged his finger into the window frame and pried it open. “Thomas Astruc?”

The man backed up, panting and whimpering, “Wh-wh-who are you and what do you want?” 

“My name is Chat Noir,” Chat kept his voice cool, “but you already knew that.” He slipped into the room silkily and started twirling his tail. “I came to give you a friendly warning.”

“W-warning?”

“About your superhero movie? The truth is, I’m already signed with a different company, and we’re prepared to take you down should you try any kind of copyright infringement.” Chat knew he was shooting from the hip, and he’d be on shaky ground should Astruc call his bluff. That was why he and Tikki had planned on this being an unexpected nighttime shakedown—hopefully, Astruc would be too terrified to really think through Chat’s words. “And trust me,” Chat walked forward, “you do _not_ want to see what a Chat Noir style takedown is.”

Astruc’s lip quivered, “I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about. Superhero movie?”

“Don’t play fool with me, I know you signed a design contract with Gabriel Agreste.”

The man’s worried face morphed into confusion, “No I didn’t—”

Chat growled, “That’s what you’d say if you had and you were keeping your production plans secret!” Chat flexed his clawed fingers and moved in closer.

“No! I swear! I haven’t signed any contract with Agreste! Besides, I’m an animation director, not live action. We wouldn’t hire a fashion mogul for design—we hire animators!”

Chat hesitated, “You’re… you’re sure?”

Astruc smelled the blood in the water, “Sounds like the better question is what are _you_ doing in my home?” The bearded man reached behind the cabinet he was backed into and pulled out a bat.

“Whoa,” Chat cried in alarm, “no need to get violent—”

“Says the man breaking and entering while wearing a cat costume,” Astruc growled and swung the bat at Chat. Chat yelped and dove out the window. Astruc’s second swipe caught his ankle before Chat could fully clear the windowsill. It throbbed in agony, but there was no time to lose. He pulled his limbs in, rolled on the landing, and ran for dear life. 

Tikki met him in the alleyway they’d previously agreed upon. Adrien ripped his mask and ears off, then started pulling off his boots. Sirens picked up a second later. “Tikki, we’ve got to get out of here!”

Adrien started putting his mask in his messenger bag, but Tikki tapped his wrist and shook her head, “Leave it! If they find the costume on you, they’ll know who you are!”

“I’m not abandoning—”

“ _Leave it!”_ she hissed. Adrien did as he was told pulled his slacks on over his swelling ankle, and limped for the alleyway exit just as the police pulled up with huge flashlights. Adrien ducked behind a dumpster and waited for the flashlights to be pointed a different direction before running for the next bit of cover. The intense motion made his ankle burn and he bit his fist to prevent himself from screaming. After a minute of this, he made it to the street and sat on a bench. A sketchbook and pencil flew out of his messenger bag, he caught them, and opened it at random and started doodling. With only a second to spare, a blinding spotlight landed on his face. 

“Halt! State your name!”

“Uh—” Adrien played coy, trying desperately to keep his voice steady despite panting from exertion, “A-Adrien Agreste?”

“Adrien Agreste, what’s in your bag?”

Adrien turned the bag over and emptied its contents, praying that Tikki wouldn’t be dislodged in the process. Notebooks, pens, and markers scattered over the bench. The officer came and started rifling through them, then shone the light in Adrien’s eyes again. He recoiled away from the light. “Is there a problem, Officer?”

“Stand up.” Adrien did as he was told, wincing as he placed weight on his throbbing foot. “Turn around.” He continued complying, trying to keep his motion fluid despite the pain. Finally, the officer lowered the light a bit and sighed. “Did you, by chance, see a kid in a cat costume run through here?”

Adrien lifted an eyebrow (he’d raised enough recently to be a master), “A _cat_ costume? No, sir. There’s been quite a few police cars, but they mostly went that way,” Adrien threw him off with a random point. 

The officer nodded slowly, “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Just sketching the beautiful Paris nightlife,” he said. “I was making a gift for my close friend Chloe Bourgeois. You know, Andre’s daughter?” 

The officer grunted, but Adrien thought he saw the man’s eyes widen with Adrien’s careful name-drop. “Really? Well, perhaps we should take your gift to her right now.”

Adrien swallowed and drew upon his model training to keep his face impassive. “It’s kind of late, and my sketch isn’t done—”

“If you’re such good friends, she won’t mind a little surprise, right?”

“Right,” Adrien nodded. “Lead the way.”

The officer hastily stuffed Adrien’s belongings back into the messenger bag and returned it to Adrien, then opened the door of the police cruiser and drove Adrien to Chloe’s hotel. He tried to lift his foot in the car to alleviate the pain, but there wasn’t enough space to elevate it and remain passive. The front lobby was humming as the night staff vacuumed and polished the furniture. The hotel manager—still in her pencil skirt and heels—approached them as soon as they entered. “Hello officer,” she greeted with a lipsticky smile, “can I help you?”

“This young man was found near the scene of a break-in this evening, but he claims Chloe Bourgeois is his alibi. We need to speak to her.”

“Uh, Mademoiselle Bourgeois is asleep—”

“We need to speak to her _now.”_

“I’ll call her room, then. What’s the young man’s name?”

The police officer glared, but Adrien piped up, “Adrien Agreste. Or Adrikins.” The manager gave him an unsure look but made the call. Adrien waited on bated breath as the manager explained the situation and then gave a series of cryptic one-word answers. 

A minute later, the elevator doors opened and Chloe tumbled out in yellow plaid pajamas, fuzzy bumblebee slippers, and thick black glasses. “Adrien? What a surprise!”

“Told you it was a surprise,” Adrien muttered.

The officer cleared his throat, “This young man says he knows you—”

“Of course he knows me,” she dismissed with a hand wave, “he’s my oldest friend.”

“So… he’s met the Mayor?”

“Look,” Chloe said with a fist on her hip, “would you like me to call Daddykins down here to prove how well he knows Adrien Agreste?”

The officer shook his head defensively, “No no, that’s not necessary. I’m releasing him into your care, Mademoiselle. But if we have any questions—”

“I’ll give you my phone number,” Adrien smiled. He jotted down the number on the back of a hotel business card, and the incensed officer, fresh out of evidence against Adrien, was forced to leave him and return to his patrol. 

Adrien limped to give Chloe a quick hug. “Thanks, Chlo, you really saved—”

“Why are you limping? What did they do to you?”

“It’s nothing—”

“I don’t care. Get your butt into that elevator and upstairs _now_. Madame—” she addressed the manager, “—please send a bucket of ice to my room right away.”

“Of course, Mademoiselle,” the manager smiled, and Chloe jabbed Adrien in the butt cheek until he hobbled into the elevator and made it safely to the top floor. She threw the door to her expansive hotel suite open and he barely made it to the couch before collapsing.

“Ooooowww,” Adrien moaned, pulling his pantleg up to reveal a nasty purple bruise.

“What _happened?”_

“I was just out sketching—”

She plopped down next to him, fingered his cheek, “Not your ankle, _this?_ ”

“Oh, uh…” he said, having nearly forgotten the bruise where his father had struck him earlier that day.

“Adrien.” Chloe leaned back, adjusted her glasses, and seemed to stare straight through him. “Tell me everything.”

“Uh… _everything?_ ” Adrien fidgeted, not sure how he was going to spin this. “I don’t know where to begin, or what to say…”

“Start with the truth.”

There was a quick knock on Chloe’s door. She hopped up, accepted the bucket of ice, and returned to start applying the cold compress to Adrien’s ankle. The relief was instantaneous. “Thanks, Chlo.”

“No, don’t thank me and then brush it off. That officer released you into my care, and in my care you’re going to stay until I have a complete explanation.”

Adrien shifted in his seat and pondered his options. Chloe gazed at him fervently. “Have you always worn glasses?” he asked.

“Contacts. Quit stalling.”

He hesitated once again, when suddenly his messenger bag made a loud zipping sound that caught both Adrien and Chloe’s attention. A red orb appeared, followed by the rest of Tikki’s body. She flew up and sat on Adrien’s shoulder. “Adrien, it’s time to come clean.”


	15. Chapter 15

Chloe didn’t scream, so Adrien sighed in relief. “Chloe, this is Tikki.”

She gaped for a minute, “Tikki… you can talk?”

Tikki giggled, “Yeah.”

“And you can fly?”

“I can do that too! I recently lost the ability to phase through objects, which was a real downer. It makes getting around so much harder. Do you know how hard it is to open doors or windows when you’re as little as me?”

Adrien cleared his throat, but Chloe wasn’t freaking out (that was a good sign, right?) and responded, “I can’t imagine.”

“But I can do other things beside fly and talk!”

Adrien saw the twitch in Chloe’s left eye and decided to take control of this conversation before Tikki pushed it any further. “Chloe, Tikki is a kwami. She’s a magical being that can bestow super powers, when used in conjunction with magical jewels known as Miraculous. Tikki is the power behind Ladybug—”

“Ladybug,” Chloe whispered, “LB?” Adrien nodded, then decided to give Chloe as much time as she needed to process everything. After a moment, she continued, “So _that’s_ what the mask was about. Superheroine. But Adrien, you said you were her partner—”

“I am also a superhero known as Chat Noir. I have a different kwami named Plagg.” Chloe looked back at the bag expectantly. “But he’s not here,” Adrien added. 

“Adrien,” Chloe muttered, “I’ve known you since we were little kids, and I’ve never heard of magic or kw-kwami, or superheroes in real life. Are you… are you sure?”

Tikki flew quietly to Chloe’s side and touched her hand. “I’m real enough.”

Adrien took a deep breath, “The reason why you’ve never heard of Miraculous or Kwami is because, well, this is going to sound strange—”

“Just tell me everything before I convince myself I’m dreaming.”

“Tikki has the power of creation, while Plagg has the power of destruction. The two are partners to balance each other, yin and yang. In my re—I mean, what happened was there was this supervillain named Hawkmoth who’s terrorized Paris for four years. He has the butterfly Miraculous, and wants the black cat and the ladybug miraculous so he can achieve the ultimate power of using the two simultaneously.”

“And what is that ultimate power?” Chloe asked, looking more interested than afraid.

Tikki spoke reverently, “We call it the Wish. You can rewrite reality to your liking. Like, you can eliminate your enemies, make yourself ruler of the universe, bring people back from the dead, and so on.” Chloe gasped, and Tikki added, “But it always comes at a price.”

“So naturally, Ladybug and I worked tirelessly to stop Hawkmoth and protect our Miraculous. His superpower is to heighten someone’s emotion, give them superpowers, and turn them into his temporary servant. He would send out his evil akumas and they would infect someone, who would turn into a supervillain that we had to fight off. We had a pretty great track record too, having been able to defeat every one of Hawkmoth’s servants.”

“Wait, this Hawkbutt dude didn’t come at you himself? He would send other people to do his dirty work? Well, that’s just rid—”

“Ridiculous, yeah, I know,” Adrien nodded. 

“But that doesn’t answer my question. You say this has been going on for four years? You’ve been fighting supervillains all over Paris and I never noticed?”

“Well… Thursday night I… Ladybug and I got into an argument. I admit it was my fault—” Tikki gave him a glare, “Ok, _mostly_ my fault, but she got really upset, and that’s when people are most vulnerable to Hawkmoth’s attacks, and one of his akumas came after Ladybug.”

“She got akumanated?”

Adrien chuckled, “Akumatized, yes. Akumatized victims are completely overwhelmed by Hawkmoth’s control; he can make them do anything he wants.”

“Including hand over her Miracu-doohickey,” Chloe breathed.

“That’s right,” he muttered. “Ladybug and Tikki had come up with a contingency plan for just that case, since Ladybug is the only one with the power to actually de-evilize the akumas once we get them away from their victim. We knew if she were ever akumatized, Hawkmoth would get Ladybug’s earrings—that is, her Miraculous—and we’d lose. _Everyone_ would lose.”

“What was the plan?”

“To use Tikki’s half of the reality-rewriting power to create a reality where the Miraculous don’t exist and where Hawkmoth couldn’t get them. So last Thursday night, that’s what Tikki did. Of course, without Plagg’s power of destruction, the process wasn’t perfect. There’s imbalances, gaps, if you will. And there’s still magic, even if the Miraculous are gone. It’s… it’s complicated.”

“So, that’s what happened to LB,” Chloe pursed her lips. “And why you need to find her and help her.”

Adrien had to hand it to Chloe—she was surprisingly chill for someone who had just discovered that tiny magical creatures that bestowed superhero powers existed, and that one had recently rewritten all of reality to save the world from falling to a supervillain powered by the butterfly miraculous. “Does that mean you believe me?” Adrien asked tentatively, adjusting the icepack on his ankle.

Chloe blinked behind her black glasses, “Well, you did bring me a kwami as proof, and she’s rather adorable. But this is what I think: you’re either telling the truth and we’ve all been launched into an alternate reality that only you can remember, or you’re really, _really_ messed up in the head.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Adrien groaned.

“Either way,” Chloe pressed on, “you’re my friend and I want to help you get better. So, got any leads on Hawkbutt or Ladygorgeous?”

Adrien’s chest swelled with pride and gratitude, “Chloe, you’re the best, you know that?”

“That’s what they tell me.”

Adrien pulled his physics notebook and his sketchbook out of his bag and got to work.

* * *

_The roses that surrounded the gazebo were dying. The flowers were black, the leaves were wilting, and the thorns were growing—four centimeters at least already. “Ladybug, are you there?”_

_“I’m here, Adrien.”_

_“So that’s it. You know my identity.”_

_“Yes, but that’s not important right now. I’m running out of space in here.”_

_“I know, we’re all running out of time. Tikki’s losing her powers, Hawkmoth is on to me, and Ladybug, I’m so, so sorry I was so blind—”_

_“Adrien, listen to me. I’ve always loved you. I never told you, but it’s always been you. I tried to give you your space and let you live your life with Kagami but—”_

_“I don’t love Kagami, I love you!”_

_“I know that now—”_

_“Oh how sweet, the superheroes are in love,” a sneering voice interrupted. Chat Noir turned away from the thorn-covered gazebo to see Hawkmoth’s toothy sneer descending. “Don’t let me interrupt. The longer you talk, the more chance I get to find you.”_

_Chat Noir raced toward him, fists at the ready—_

“Adrien! Are you ok?” Chloe’s face swam into view.

He sat up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Sorry, yeah,” he responded, “nightmare. Tikki, are you there? Are you ok?”

Tikki rolled over on the silk cushion Chloe had lent her, “I’m fine, but Adrien, I’m so scared!”

“Me too,” he sighed and stroked the kwami’s head. “But we have a great plan and we’re going to win this, right?”

“Right,” Tikki agreed. 

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Chloe snapped.

“Oh,” Adrien laughed, “sorry, Chlo. So, ever since this reality was created, Tikki and I have these dreams, but they’re not dreams, they’re real. It’s like we’re back in our reality. Ladybug is there and I can communicate with her for a minute or two. This time, Hawkmoth was there as well.”

“They’re _real?”_

“Please don’t ask me how it works,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m really not sure. Wait, what time is it?”

Chloe checked her phone, “Ugh, it’s six-ten.”

“Crap,” Adrien got to his feet—his ankle flared fresh in pain— “I never checked in last night. We stayed up so late discussing plans that it slipped my mind. Nathalie will be panicked.”

Chloe put her hand on her hip, “Let her be panicked. The girl needs to learn how to chill out anyway.”

Adrien grinned at that thought, but shook his head, “Still, I’m relatively certain my father is Hawkmoth—dang, that hurts to say out loud—and getting on his bad side right now will only make matters worse.”

“If we’re right and he knows you’re Chat Noir, then won’t you already be on his bad side?”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, “You know what I mean.”

“Fine,” she huffed, “I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, don’t put on your pants just yet—my physician will be here in a few minutes to wrap your ankle. I’ve ensured they’ll be discreet about it, too.” 

Adrien blinked and looked down—his pants were, indeed, gone, along with the rest of his clothes except his underwear. “Uh, what in the—”

“Go take a shower! You’ll want to be at your best for your breakfast date with LB!”

He smiled before taking Chloe up on her advice. The night before, Adrien and Chloe had gone over all the evidence Adrien had gathered in the last few days. He still wondered if she was just entertaining him so he wouldn’t do something rash, but whether she truly believed him or not didn’t matter. She was considerate and had good ideas, and Adrien felt physically lighter now that he had someone else to talk to about everything.

The shower was quick but nice, and when he was finished, his clothes had been freshly laundered. The physician was waiting with an ace bandage, and assured Adrien his ankle was not broken, just badly bruised. It wasn’t long before Adrien was ready for meeting Marinette for breakfast. Chloe had put in her contacts and was tying her sneakers while chatting on her phone. “You and I both know what having a boy in my room all night is nothing to worry about, but Gabriel doesn’t. He’s always been so black-and-white about that kind of thing.” She paused, “Yeah, that’s it. Perfect. No, don’t reassure him nothing happened, let him wonder. Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it. Bye.” She hung up. “Well, that’s taken care of.” Adrien was pretty sure he didn’t want to know, so he didn’t ask. “Jean Pierre says your tight-knit-overpaid-babysitter was completely neurotic. But I’ve thrown her some nice juicy gossip to keep her occupied for a while.”

Adrien wanted to brush it off, but he couldn’t. “Nathalie’s not concerned with gossip, she won’t care what I do, as long as I don’t tarnish the brand.”

She smiled, “That’s kind of the point. We’ll get them concerned about the wrong things.”

“Chloe, my father knows where I go to school, he’s already pulled me out early once, he’ll do it again if he thinks—”

“Look, I worked really hard this morning to make him believe that you’re here because we’re fooling around, so don’t blow that cover now.”

Adrien scoffed, “Why would you—”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Does he have proof that you’re Chat Noir?”

“I don’t know, the designs, the pictures yesterday—”

“Which Tikki ensured were over exposed—”

“And his game of twenty questions in the car—”

“He _suspects._ He doesn’t know. Adrien, I think the photoshoot was bait. If he was dead certain about you, he probably wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to dress you up and give you chances to get away. He was trying to get you to give away that you recognized the costumes! Now, the story is that after he hit you and the unpleasant photoshoot, you came running to the arms of your dear friend slash lover for comfort, and that’s it. Do _not_ sway from that story, ok? It’s the only way to protect your cat fetish and keep you away from your utterly ridiculous father!”

“But what will LB think?”

Chloe rolled her eyes again, “She’s not going to believe the lover bit either, but enough worry, you’ve got a date to make!”

“Chloe—”

“Just go, you idiot!” She pushed him out the door with his messenger bag. Once safely in the elevator, Adrien peeked at Tikki in his bag.

“I think telling Chloe was the right choice; thanks for doing that.” Tikki winked in response.

* * *

Marinette was helping her father in the bakery when Adrien arrived. “Good morning, Monsieur Adrien!” Tom boomed as he walked inside. “How’s that friend of yours? Did they enjoy their strawberry macarons?”

“She said they were the best she’d ever had. Can I get another box?”

“Of course,” Tom agreed and started loading up the pink treats. Marinette already had juice and pastries prepared for breakfast and was actually smiling. Adrien paid for the food and Marinette led the way to the park bench. 

“I have to admit,” Adrien said once they were out of earshot, “I was worried you were going to stand me up this morning, after that awful photoshoot.”

She gave a half-hearted shrug, “I thought about it. I almost took the first flight out of Paris last night. But I meant what I said—I want to believe you. I want to try. So, I slept on it.”

“And?”

“And… you were in my dream,” she admitted. “Not just Chat Noir, but you. Both of you, well, just you… but, you know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“And… and something you said—”

“I meant it.” He looked into her eyes with a firm but caring smile.

She hesitated for several seconds, then blinked rapidly, “There you go again. How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make my heart race like that?”

“I make your heart race?” 

She rolled her eyes. “So…” she took a bite of breakfast, “I’m not making any promises, but… I broke up with Luka.”

Adrien repressed a chuckle. “I’m… sorry to hear that.”

“It always felt weird.” Adrien, once more, chose not to respond to that, and took a bite so his mouth would be too full to expect more conversation just yet. “Adrien, why do you think your father chose me and Nino for that photoshoot yesterday?”

Adrien looked at her carefully, “The official story is that you had the look he was going for. But I don’t know the truth behind it. I’m sorry Marinette, I should have shut it down as soon as I learned he was selecting you. My father’s not the best person, and I’m really worried about your safety, and Nino and Alya’s. I’ve had the photos destroyed, though.”

She looked at him, “Why are you worried for my safety?”

Adrien swallowed, “When you saw the dress yesterday, what did you think?” She looked at her hands. “And in the dream you had last night, you were locked inside a room made of thorns, right? It was collapsing on you? You couldn’t see me, but you could hear me.”

Her bluebell eyes started to water, “It’s… it’s so foggy, Adrien, I can’t make sense of it—”

“Ladybug,” he whispered, leaning closer and gently touching her cheek, “you’ve got to fight him. You’ve got to try to remember everything! My father—Gabriel Agreste—is Hawkmoth. You know what that means.”

She placed her fingers over the ones that were cupping her face. “Adrien. I’m lost and I’m scared.”

“I know,” he said, leaning a little closer, “but I’m going to help you. I’ve got a plan.”

* * *

“Welp,” Adrien bemoaned, “I just failed that test.”

Marinette giggled. “What’s the matter? Forget to study?”

“I’ve had a couple other things on my mind recently, yes. Good thing our project rocks, because I’m going to need it to save my Humanities score.”

Chloe sidled up to the two of them. “You did finish the project, right?”

“Of course,” Adrien responded. “Though it is in my room—”

“I’ll send Jean Pierre to pick it up,” she waved her hand nonchalantly. “Though I need to know if you’d prefer steak chateaubriand or coq au vin for dinner tonight.”

“Uh…”

She laughed, “I’ll pass your enthusiastic response on to Chef Cesaire.” Chloe pecked Adrien’s cheek and breezed out the door. 

Marinette giggled once again—a sound that made goosebumps erupt on Adrien’s arms, “You two are just… thick as thieves.” 

He smiled, “Like I said, I don’t have a lot of friends, but she’s always been there for me.”

Adrien and Marinette finished packing up their things and started walking to the exit slowly, both knowing that once they reached the school steps, their time together would be over, and both feeling that inextricable pull to the other—make it last as long as possible, their instincts urged. Don’t leave quite yet. “Why don’t you have lots of friends?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien replied, “I thought I was doing ok, but… things changed. About the same time you noticed them change as well.”

She frowned, “Hm. Nino’s your friend, though.”

“That’s true. He asked me to come hang out on Friday evening. I… I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come to the party with me?”

She gave him a side-eye, “On Friday?”

“Yeah… It’s just a casual thing, but a—” his voice squeaked, “—a lot of c-couples are coming, and so I was wondering if you’d… you know…”

“As a _couple_?” Marinette’s question nearly made Adrien miss the bottom stair and he stumbled on his wrapped ankle.

“Not a _couple-_ couple, but, maybe… maybe as a d-date?”

She gave him a scrutinizing look, “What about—”

The front doors suddenly burst open and a figure burst through, glowing so brightly that for a moment Adrien feared she was on fire. “ _Kagami?”_ Adrien gasped.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Adrien braced for impact. Kagami was charging at him mere seconds after he asked a different girl out. Kagami, his fiancée, was racing toward him. There was no ducking for cover, there was no claiming to be somewhere else, there was no hope and no silver lining. He was done for. He swallowed hard and steeled himself—if he was about to die, he would die facing his foe head on.

“Adrien!”

“Kagami, I know what you’re about to say, and I’m—”

“You’re safe!” she cried, throwing her arms around him, shaking with relief. He patted her back awkwardly.

“Y-Yeah,” he responded. “Safe… here at school… you know, pretty normal for me—”

Kagami pulled away, “And Marinette, so good to see you too. I was so worried, I just came from your house, and when I saw it, I thought you might have been hurt—”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“You—you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Kagami took his hand and Adrien, not wanting to lose Marinette again, offered his. She took it. Kagami pulled the other two to her autonomous car and ordered they be taken to the Agreste mansion. “Uh, Kagami,” Adrien protested, “I’m not sure it’s safe to go to there just now.”

“I know it’s not safe,” she responded, “but you need to see this for yourself.”

“What were you doing there, anyway?” Adrien asked nervously.

“Nathalie called and informed me you’d spent the night at a girl’s place last night, so I came to check on you.”

“Yeah, about that—”

She waved her hand impatiently, “Adrien, I don’t care about that. I read between the lines. The only reason you would have been at a girl’s house last night was if you were in danger, so I came to check on you. The mansion was empty, but after Saturday night, we were granted access codes, so I let myself in.”

“Kagami,” Adrien said, bracing for impact, “I need to talk to you about what happened Saturday. I know I said I was in love with you and always had been, but that wasn’t—”

“It wasn’t true, I know. I don’t love you either. I mean, I’m your friend and hope I always will be, but all day, well, since Sunday night but it got so much stronger today, I just felt so weird about marrying you. It suddenly felt like our whole relationship was forced, you know? Like someone else picked us out for each other, even though we weren’t right for each other, and I was finally waking up from a brainwashed state.”

Adrien gasped in shock, “Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

“So, you’re ok if we mutually call off the wedding?”

Adrien grinned, “Yeah, that’s… that’s cool.”

She nodded simply, as if she’d just agreed to watch someone’s purse for twenty minutes, not called off an engagement. Marinette remained quiet, watching this interchange with fascination. “I thought,” she now interjected quietly, “that you two had always been dating? For years?”

Adrien smiled softly, “I tried to tell you—”

Kagami shook her head stiffly, “Adrien is a great friend and I’m sure he’ll make a fine husband to whoever he’s supposed to be with, but that’s not going to be me. Though,” she added, turning back to Adrien as the car rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of the mansion, “my mother was wise enough to put the merger in my name. If you still want to go through with it, perhaps in a few years, we can discuss our options.”

Adrien smiled and gave Kagami an enormous sideways hug. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Kagami’s glowing skin faded slightly as the imbalances and changes settled. “Let’s go before anyone else returns.” Adrien nodded and the three of them left the vehicle and tentatively entered the quiet building. Kagami whispered, “It’s your room, Adrien.” They padded up to Adrien’s room. The door was ajar. When he entered, he gasped in horror. The room had been completely ransacked. His mattress was split, his couch was in shambles, his bookshelves had been emptied, his computer was missing, his desk drawers had been emptied, even his piano had the cover ripped off its hinges. 

“Adrien,” Marinette’s voice quavered, “who—who did this to you?”

He felt queasy, “I think I know. I just don’t know why.” He tried to discern if anything was missing, and felt immensely grateful he had kept Tikki, his sketchbook, and his physics notebook with him since the previous day. He looked at his bookshelves on the upper level, and one looked particularly disturbed. He raced up the spiral staircase to the shelf that had contained all the full sketchbooks. Marinette followed him. He knelt down by the pile of books that had been ripped to shreds in the haste of whoever had searched his room. He felt intensely emotional at seeing his artwork pulled apart at the seams like this, even though he had only foggy memories of creating it. He fingered through some of the pages, the shapes, lines, and colors popping off the paper wherever his fingers had asked them to. He wasn’t aware of the tears in his eyes until Marinette placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. We’re going to find out whoever did this,” she promised. He nodded. She knelt beside him and tenderly moved a few of the designs, and then came to a chunk of paper that still had enough binding intact to keep them together. The first page was only a pair of eyes, but Adrien recognized them. They were hers. He didn’t recall drawing this, but he had obviously been mesmerized with Marinette in this reality. She turned a few pages and there were her hands, then her hair and her ears, and finally, a series of sketches of her in some athletic poses. Adrien blushed—perhaps mesmerized wasn’t a strong enough word. Marinette had been his muse. “Adrien,” she whispered.

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

He was almost afraid to make eye contact for fear to see her upset again, but as she turned, he couldn’t hold off the inevitable. Their eyes met, and Adrien sighed in relief to see only awe and intrigue there, not anger. “Adrien, you are an incredible artist. When did you learn to draw like this?”

He shrugged and honestly answered, “I dunno, I guess I picked it up somewhere.”

She sighed contentedly and turned back to the drawings, “I’ve always longed to draw or create art of some kind, but… I don’t know, I guess I’m just too clumsy for something this delicate. I just can’t make my fingers do what I ask them to.”

Of all the things Marinette could have said, _that_ was not what Adrien expected. “Wait, you can’t? I thought you were an aspiring fashion designer!” 

She chuckled, “Me? Heavens no. Just not a gift I was given, I guess.” Adrien’s head spun. “But, if you don’t mind,” she added, “could I keep a couple of these? They’re just so beautiful.”

“Of… of course…”

“Adrien!” Kagami hissed from below, “I think someone’s coming!”

His eyes flew open and locked on Marinette’s determined jaw. “We’ve got to go, quick,” he whispered, but she was two steps ahead of him. 

She slid down the spiral staircase railing while whispered, “Is there any other exit?”

“I can show you how to get out the window, but it’s a bit of a climb—”

Kagami and Marinette both rolled their eyes at him. Apparently a climb wasn’t a problem. He grabbed his overturned desk chair and propped it on the TV desk. Kagami listened at the door, “Hurry!” 

Adrien could hear the voices in the hallway, even though he couldn’t make them out. “The rope, there on the floor!” Marinette tossed him the rope. He climbed up, tied it to the window frame as he had before, and slid partway out. “Kagami! Come on, let’s go!” Kagami shimmied up and out. “Duck behind the tree, then to the left of that bush, and wait for me at the wall.” She nodded and followed directions. “Marinette! Come on!” Adrien urged as quietly as he could. Marinette eyeballed the stack of furniture, biting her lip. “I promise, it’s safe—”

“It’s not that,” she whispered, then turn and raced up the spiral staircase and started stuffing Adrien’s artwork into her backpack as quickly as she could. 

“Marinette! It’s not worth it!”

The voices outside the door paused, loud enough to make out now. “And you thoroughly searched his sketchbooks? _Nothing?”_ his father’s cold voice was saying.

“Perhaps if I had an idea of what you wanted me to look for—” Gerard the Butler replied.

“I _told_ you, the picture that young lady had! The one you said she showed to Adrien when she came on Sunday morning!”

“No, it wasn’t there. You can check yourself, but it wasn’t there.”

“I had hoped the photoshoot would have provided the answers I seek, but the lousy photographer overexposed every single image. He claimed the sun was too bright at that time of day, but… well, let’s just hope you’ve been more attentive to detail than he was.”

“Marinette!” Adrien hissed as loudly as he dared. “Leave it!” She slid back down the spiral staircase and nimbly jumped to the TV stand, the desk chair, and the window ledge in three light bounds. She hooked a hand over the rope and swung down just as Adrien heard the door to his room click. He started rappelling down, still in full view through the two-story windows. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest as he willed his hands to move faster.

“Oh please,” Adrien heard Marinette’s voice whisper anxiously below him, “let us get out of here without being seen—”

Adrien saw his father stride into his room. For one heart-stopping second, Gabriel’s eyes locked on to the stack of furniture, the rope, and his son swinging from the window a meter above. Then, most unexpectedly, Gabriel Agreste flamed with light. The glow was brief, and as it faded, he turned back to the entrance and announced, “Hang on, I forgot something in my atelier.”

Adrien picked up the pace and landed with a thud on his sore ankle but didn’t slow. He led Marinette through the maze of security camera blindspots to the tree by the wall, then he hoisted Kagami into the tree, then Marinette, and then he followed. When all three had made it over the security wall, they ran as fast as they could to Adrien’s favorite alleyway for unnoticed transformations. Kagami’s autonomous car was waiting for them there.

“Holy cow, I thought we were done for!” Marinette gasped, clutching a stitch in her chest as she buckled into the car.

“Me too,” Kagami sighed. “Of course, they’re going to be tracking us soon enough. We left our escape route pretty well visible.”

Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off of Marinette. “You know,” he muttered, “it’s pretty fortunate… my father entered the room and he… he almost saw me.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “ _Really?_ Wow, that was good timing, then.”

“Eerily good,” he agreed. “Why did you go back for the sketches? They’re really not that important.”

She blinked a few times, scratched her head, and then dropped her chin in a classic-Marinette-fashion, “I-I just… I j-just wanted you to h-have them, since they so important to seemed you be. I mean, they seemed so important to you.”

She was stuttering. _And_ jumbling her words. And as Adrien looked closer, he could have sworn her hair was a little shorter. 


	17. Chapter 17

Marinette turned her head to look out the window, and the portion of hair that was behind her back stayed pinned against the carseat just enough to reveal her ear. Her earlobe was glowing. Adrien inhaled sharply.

“What is it?” Kagami responded instinctively.

“Nothing… just… where did you get your earrings, Marinette? They’re very unique.”

Marinette turned to Adrien with a raised eyebrow and fingered the small black studs. “Uh, these? Actually, I don’t know, I’ve had them for a long time. Sometimes I forget I’m even wearing them.”

Kagami looked at Marinette’s ear and back to Adrien like he was crazy. “They don’t look very unique to me, just plain black studs.” Kagami’s car was taking them on a circuitous route around Paris, just in case anyone was following them after their narrow escape from the Agreste mansion. Adrien’s stomach was already in knots, and the random turns and twists weren’t helping much. “So,” Kagami continued, “what are we going to do about whoever ransacked your room?”

Adrien pressed his forehead to the window and tried to think. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I know who did it, and probably even why, but I have no clue how to fight them, or even if I want to.”

“If you want to?” Kagami queried, “Why wouldn’t you want to?”

Adrien took a deep breath, “It’s complicated. It’s… It’s my father, Kagami.” 

Her jaw dropped in surprise. Marinette, however, did not have much reaction to this news. “Adrien,” Marinette asked ponderously, “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. 

Kagami wasn’t satisfied, “You need to take action, soon. I managed to get some pictures of the room while we were there. I am forwarding them to my lawyer so we can start emancipation procedures.”

Adrien nodded, grateful for the idea, too queasy to think through it right now.

“Kagami,” Marinette interjected, “why don’t we save the legal planning for a little later, after Adrien’s had a chance to process what we just saw? I can only imagine how difficult this must be for him right now.”

He glanced at Marinette, and while she wasn’t looking at him directly, she wore a soft smile that made his heart melt. “Thanks, Marinette,” he acknowledged quietly. How had this amazing girl passed his notice? How had Ladybug been able to hide in plain sight? Was he really so blind that he never connected sweet, brave, thoughtful Marinette with his sweet, brave, thoughtful Lady? 

She turned the full power of her blazing bluebell gaze on him. “Adrien, do you have somewhere safe to stay?”

“Um, yeah, I’m staying with Chloe at Le Grand Paris.” 

Marinette nodded, “That’s pretty good, but it’s a little high-profile. Would you be willing to hang out with me until we can get in touch with Chloe and make sure it’s safe?”

Adrien swallowed hard, “Y-yeah, that would be perfect.”

Kagami ordered the car to take them to the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie-Patisserie, and in a few minutes, they had safely arrived. “Adrien, when you decide what you’re going to do—”

“I’ll give you a call, I promise,” he agreed. Marinette and Adrien climbed out of the car. “And Kagami,” he noted, “thanks again for being my friend.”

She gave a polite smile, “You too.” The car sped off and Marinette led Adrien in through the back door. 

“Maman? Papa?” she called, checking to see who was in the bakery before letting Adrien leave the storage entrance. 

“Welcome home, my baby girl!” Tom’s pleasant voice boomed.

Marinette gave Adrien the all-clear, and he followed her into the kitchen. “Papa, Adrien needs a place to hang out for a while, and I—”

“Welcome to the Dupain palace, son!” Tom grinned. He closed the distance between the two of them and lifted Adrien off his feet in a bone-crushing hug. Marinette made a funny little choking noise and muttered something like “Papa, let him go!” but Adrien loved it. He’d grown plenty in the last four years and now stood eye-to-eye with Marinette’s father, but something about this gentle teddy bear of a man always made him feel at home.

“It’s fine,” Adrien assured Marinette as Tom returned him to his feet. “Thank you so much, sir, for letting me stay for a bit.”

“Of course! Marinette never invites boys over, at least not unless there’s a school project or something.”

The school project… Adrien’s stomach plummeted—his model Colosseum had been in his room. Marinette slipped her little hand into Adrien’s and pulled him to the staircase, “Come on,” she muttered, turning a pleasant shade of pink as their skin met and that electric thrill ran up both their arms. “Let’s get out of here before my dad gets the wrong impression.”

“Oh, I already have the wrong impression!” Tom called after the two of them as they marched up the stairs.

“Marinette,” Adrien muttered, “my school project, my Humanities project, do you remember seeing it in my room?”

She halted on the first floor and turned to look at him, “I… I’m sorry, Adrien, I don’t recall.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dang. I’m going to fail Humanities. I… I can never go home again and I’m going to fail Humanities.” He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He choked out an expression that seemed to be half of each. 

Marinette turned and looked at him tenderly, “Adrien, it’s ok. Let’s just get somewhere quiet and we’ll think through it together.” He nodded and forlornly followed her up the ladder to her bedroom. He’d been in her room several times, but he was always struck at how soft and homey it was. She didn’t release his hand until he was seated on her chaise, and when she did, he immediately missed the softness of her skin. He took the messenger bag off his shoulder and placed it softly on the floor. Marinette busied herself with making some phone calls; Adrien opened his bag to peek at Tikki. She gave him a reassuring smile. There was a loud knock at the trap door—which was apparently a formality, because the door flew open and Tom poked his head inside. 

“Oh, hi sir, Marinette’s on the phone—” Adrien started.

“Even better,” Tom winked. “I brought you treats!” Tom handed up an enormous platter of the most delicious delicacies Adrien had ever seen. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Wow, thank you sir!”

“Please, call me—”

“ _Papa,_ are you spoiling Adrien rotten?” Marinette laughingly scolded.

He scoffed, “Do you know me at all? _Of course_ I’m spoiling the poor boy!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and joined Adrien’s laughter. Tom lowered the trap door and Adrien took a bite of the salmon quiche on top, and gave a little moan of ecstasy. No matter how many times he tasted a Dupain-Cheng specialty, they always took his breath away. “So,” Marinette started, “I was checking in with Chloe. She’s glad to hear you’re safe, but she said Jean Pierre wasn’t allowed in to the mansion earlier today, and didn’t get your Humanities project.”

“Dang,” Adrien said, not having remembered that Chloe sent Jean Pierre to pick it up.

“Would you like me to call our teacher? I’m sure Monsieur—”

“No,” Adrien responded flatly, “please don’t. I don’t want to have to explain what happened to the other project. I don’t want anyone else to know _anything._ ”

Marinette nodded sagely, then sat next to Adrien on the chaise. “Ok.”

“Ok?” he looked at her hesitantly. 

She gave him the most Ladybug-esque smile he’d ever seen. The hair raised on the back of his neck and goosebumps ran down his spine. “Ok, we’ll figure something out. The project is due tomorrow, and we’re supposed to build a model to scale, right?”

“Right…”

“And your team was the Colosseum, right?”

“Right. We had a plaster mold, and once that was dry, I painted it. But I don’t think we’d have enough time for the plaster to dry,” Adrien contemplated.

“Who says it has to be made out of plaster?” Marinette grinned.

Adrien gave her an interested look, “What do you have in mind?”

Marinette marched to the trap door, threw it open, and called, “Papa, I thought of something we need!”

Tom’s face appeared in the door frame a split second later, and Adrien still wasn’t quite sure of what was happening when he found himself back downstairs in Tom’s kitchen, wearing a flowery apron, his sketchbook in his hands. Marinette and Tom were thick as thieves—Tom was scouring through his recipe books, Marinette was searching the internet as quickly as her fingers could fly. “Um, sorry,” Adrien spoke up, “but what am I supposed to be sketching again?”

Sabine Cheng appeared out of nowhere, “The Colosseum, of course, dear! Just keep your basic shapes all ovals, and we should be good.”

Tom was crooning, “Ooh, I found a traditional Italian loaf, that would be perfect…”

“Look, Papa,” Marinette grinned, “here’s a recipe for pizza crust that’s supposed to be a thousand years old. We could use that—”

“For the base, of course!” Tom clapped his daughter on the back with pride. “Hey, son, do you have the sketch yet? How many loaves are we going to need?”

“L-loaves?” Adrien queried.

“For your Colosseum! Your Colosseum made out of bread!”

All three Dupain-Chengs smiled at him expectantly, and it dawned on Adrien that this was how a real family functioned. This synergy, this uncanny ability to read each other’s thoughts, this ebb and flow, working together, understanding each other—this was what it meant to be a family. Adrien knew, somewhere deep down, that he should be sad that it took eighteen years of life to experience it, but in the moment, all he felt was at peace. 

* * *

Several hours later, Adrien stretched his back. He was covered in flour, he had achy spots he had never realized _could_ ache, but he stepped back and looked at the masterpiece with pride. The bread Colosseum was spectacular. No, it didn’t have the fine details he’d slaved over with the plaster model, but he was far prouder of this one, simply because of the love that had been put into it. Sabrina and Chloe had arrived at some point in the evening, and now the six of them circled the bread sculpture and stared. “This is so great. Thank you, Madame, Monsieur,” he extended his hand to Marinette’s parents.

Tom rolled his eyes at Adrien, then lifted him off his feet once again in another bone-crushing hug. Adrien had a little more time to prepare for this one, and awkwardly tried to return the hug, despite his arms being pinned to his side. Sabine Cheng then shook his hand warmly. It was decided that Sabrina stood the best chance of bringing the bread sculpture to school safe and sound, so she thanked the Dupain-Chengs for their help and took her leave. Chloe looked conflicted for a few moments, but when it appeared that Adrien was planning to hang back and talk to Marinette, she nodded her approval and headed out. “Adrien,” Chloe whispered, “I’ve got one of the hotel limos on standby. They’ll pick you up whenever you want, ok?”

“Thanks, Chlo.” Chloe kissed Marinette’s cheeks and skipped to the exit. Adrien waved her goodbye, then turned to see Marinette quietly sweeping the floor. Adrien grabbed a bottle of sanitizing spray and a washrag and started scrubbing.

“Marinette, today was… well… today was something else. I…” Adrien was struggling to form sentences, “Thanks. Thanks for being my friend.”

She nodded contemplatively. “The way your father treats you isn’t right,” she whispered.

“I know,” he muttered back. “He used to be a great man. But when mother disappeared, he changed. I used to think he just missed her, but after nearly five years now, it’s only gotten worse. I never thought,” Adrien cleared his throat, “I never thought he would hit me, though, or destroy my bedroom like that…”

“He was looking for something, wasn’t he.”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Adrien paused his scrubbing, “I think he was looking for the picture I drew of Ladybug.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “L-Ladybug?”

Adrien nodded, “I think… no, I know. My father is Hawkmoth.” The look of horror that crossed Marinette’s face would have confirmed her identity had Adrien not known it already. “Marinette, please, please tell me you remember… please try to remember everything—”

She stared blankly as she processed everything. “I’m… I’m Ladybug?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he urged. “We have to stop him. We have to stop Hawkmoth.”

She sat on a barstool and propped her head in her hands, perching her elbows on her knees for support. “What happened?”

Adrien pulled a second barstool in front of her and leaned forward so his forehead rested against the top of her head. She smelled amazing, but Adrien couldn’t be distracted. “It was my fault,” he muttered, “I wasn’t the partner you needed. We had a fight. Hawkmoth took advantage of the situation and—”

“An akuma,” she whispered.

“You remember?”

“It’s so hazy, like remembering a dream.” She leaned back so she could look him in the eye. “It’s choppy. One minute it’s like instinct and I just _know_ , and the next it’s gone.”

Adrien smiled and took her hand carefully, “If there’s anything I know about you, Marinette, it’s that you’re brave.”

“And… you _do_ know me?”

Adrien nodded tenderly, “Whether in pigtails or long hair, whether with a mask or not, whether in this reality or a different one, you’ve always been the girl of my dreams.”

She gave a little squeak and leaned toward him. As she closed her eyes, Adrien’s heart sped up. She tilted forward, and Adrien wrapped his arms around her to prevent her from falling off her barstool—the touch was overwhelmingly electric. He pulled her to his chest and kissed her. As their lips found each other, fireworks exploded in his every nerve. One of her hands slipped up his forearm and then wove into his hair. He ran a finger down her jaw and deepened the kiss. 

This was right. This was home. This was Ladybug and Chat Noir, Marinette and Adrien, exactly as it always should have been. This was—

Empty. “I’m sorry,” Marinette stuttered, clapping her hand over her own mouth and backing up suddenly. “I… I don’t know what got into me—”

“Marinette,” he mourned, “don’t give up now, please remember me. Please remember us.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry, Adrien, but it’s… it’s a lot to handle. And you’re losing your home and I shouldn’t have taken advantage like that.”

“Uh, it wasn’t taking advantage, I liked it—”

She gave a weak smile, “Me too. I mean, uh,” she shook her head again, “I barely know you, and you’re perfect, no, I mean, you’re perfectly right, that is, you’re not perfect, but…” Her skin flamed red and she backed up. Memories of Marinette stuttering, blushing, running away, coursed through Adrien’s head. 

“I thought you hated me,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just, all those years, I thought I’d done something wrong. I never could figure it out.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Marinette, it’s ok, you can be yourself with me. I have always cared about you deeply.”

She bit her lip and looked up at him through watery eyes. “I… I don’t know what to think. I’m sorry, Adrien, but this is an awful lot to process. It’s almost as if there’s two of me, each pulling in different directions.”

Adrien really wanted to race in, scoop her up, kiss her, hold her, and never let her go. But as he took a step toward her, her earrings started glowing again. The glow started there, then radiated to the top of her head and down her body. He looked at his own hands and saw his own glow emanating brightly again. Ominous dread settled in the pit of his stomach, urging him to be cautious. Following that instinct, Adrien smile and nodded. “It’s ok,” he responded. “I told you I wanted to be your friend, and if that’s all we ever be, I would treasure that friendship to my dying day. I’m sorry if I moved too fast.”

She smiled, “It’s ok.”

“We’re learning together. We’ll figure it out, right?” She smiled and nodded. “Can I give you a hug?” One more nod was the permission he needed to hold her tenderly. True to his word, though, it remained a friendly embrace. 

Ten minutes later, Chloe was admitting Adrien into her room at Le Grand Paris. He was completely exhausted, but his brain was whirring in overdrive. “Well? What happened?” she excitedly asked as she threw the deadbolts on her door.

Adrien smiled at the couch made up with sheets and blankets and a fresh pair of pajamas laid out for him. “Progress,” he stated simply, before heading for the couch and, with any luck, rest.


	18. Chapter 18

_Adrien’s hands were enrobed in black. They had little claw tips over the fingernails. On his right ring finger, a black ring glowed with a lime green paw print. His muscles were alive and flexible._

_“Ladybug! I’ve got my Miraculous back!” Her only response was a muffled cry. “Cataclysm!” His hand charged with bubbling black energy and he plunged it into the brambles surrounding the gazebo. They disintegrated. Marinette was curled in a ball on the floor, her clothes ripped and bloody from the advancing thorns. Chat raced to her. “Marinette,” he whispered. She turned her wide, brilliant eyes on him._

_“Chat Noir,” she smiled softly, “please don’t give up on me.”_

_“I won’t. I love you, Marinette. I love you for everything you are.”_

_“Adrien,” she whimpered, “it’s going to get worse. Don’t give up on me.”_

_“I won’t,” he repeated. There was a groan from outside the gazebo. Adrien’s eyes followed the noise to see Hawkmoth returning to his feet and rubbing his jaw where he was sporting a massive purple bruise. Chat Noir smirked—at least in one reality, his hits were having an effect._

_“Ladybug…” Hawkmoth sneered, stretching his arms and legs ominously, “Thank you for the magic…”_

“How did you know Adrien was here?” Chloe’s voice rang through Adrien’s aching head. 

“I can’t tell you,” a low Chinese accent responded, “I just know he is, and that I need to speak with him.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not safe, I don’t know how you got past security to begin with—”

Adrien sat up, his pounding headache threatening to knock him out again, and turned to see a blindingly bright Master Fu in the hallway. “It’s ok, Chloe,” Adrien announced, “he’s ok.”

Chloe glared at Adrien warily, but admitted Master Fu inside. “Good morning, by the way,” she huffed, “though I don’t think you can call 4 o’clock _good_ …”

Adrien rubbed his tender forehead and Master Fu gave both of them a quizzical look, “Were you sleeping?”

Adrien shrugged, “I don’t know if you can define what I do in this reality as sleeping. I think all these difficult nights are taking their toll on me. I feel terrible.”

“Or maybe there’s something going around,” Chloe groaned, “because I feel awful as well.”

Master Fu nodded, “I, too, feel quite sick.”

Adrien looked at the other two, “That can’t be a coincidence. Master Fu, why did you come here in the middle of the night, especially when you’re not feeling well?”

Master Fu gave a sideways glance to Chloe, then whispered, “Is she… cool?”

Adrien snorted, “Yeah, she knows as much as I do.”

The old man nodded and spoke, “Something very strange woke me up an hour ago. The Miracle Box where the strange creatures live started singing.”

_“Singing?”_ Chloe echoed. “Like, hip-hop or country?”

Suddenly, a raspy, drawling voice chirped, “It was our special kwami song that we can use to contact each other, not crass human music. Not that you would know the difference.”

Adrien couldn’t swallow—his tongue had gone sandpaper dry. His eyes were prickling as Plagg lifted Master Fu’s wide hat and zipped out. Adrien held open his hands and Plagg—who was surprisingly strong for being the size of a plush doll—knocked Adrien over into the couch. “Plagg! I’m so happy to see you!”

Plagg purred against Adrien’s cheek briefly, then backed up, “You smell funny.”

“I smell _normal,”_ Adrien scoffed. “This is how I smell when I’m not packing a wheel of camembert in my back pocket.”

“Well, it’s awful,” Plagg complained. “It’s like… soap and cookies. Wait, cookies—where’s Tikki? We need to find Tikki! Do you have her?”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Adrien reassured Plagg.

“Good.” Plagg seemed agitated, but accepted his chosen’s word. “Hey, Blondie?” Plagg turned to Chloe, “You wouldn’t happen to have any cheese around, would you?”

She raised an eyebrow, “You’re calling me _Blondie_ and you think I’m going to pull out all the cheese I have for you?”

“Not just any cheese, though, I prefer a finely aged—”

“You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” she laughed and ran her fingers through her short curly locks. “Adrikins, is he always like that?” Adrien grinned. Plagg punched his arm. “Why don’t you go find your own cheese. This is a well-stocked hotel, the pride of Paris, I’m sure there’s something to your liking downstairs.”

Plagg scowled at Chloe. “Great. Just great. Another human who doesn’t appreciate just how delicate a kwami’s needs are. Well, maybe I’ll take Tikki and she and I can catch up without all these stinky humans around.”

“Plagg…” Adrien warned, but the kwami rolled his eyes.

“Tikki! Tikki, where are you?”

“She likes to sleep in this scarf my father gave me, hang on,” Adrien said, going to the bundled scarf on the coffee table next to the couch where Adrien had been sleeping. He gently poked the scarf. “Tikki, wake up, Plagg’s here! Plagg’s actually here!” She must be _really_ tired, he thought, as he poked the scarf again. Nothing happened. He unraveled the bundle and nothing was there. “Tikki! She was here last night, where is she?” Adrien was suddenly panicking. “Tikki!”

Plagg zipped around the room calling her name but came back with a look of dismay on his face, “She’s not here. What did you do to her? This is your fault,” he added, glaring at Chloe.

“My fault?” she retorted, “How do you figure that?”

Plagg pouted, folding his arms dramatically. “You scared her off. Didn’t make her feel welcome. You probably didn’t even give her any cookies. She _needs_ cookies just like I _need_ cheese.”

“Knock it off, Plagg. You know we’ve been taking great care of Tikki,” Adrien warned. “Is there any other kwami with you, Plagg?”

He kept beady eyes on Chloe, “No, only the Miraculous that were in use at the point that reality went haywire were able to connect. Tikki was already here, so I—”

“Wait, does that mean—” Adrien looked down at his hand. His silver ring flashed back at him, “—Yes! I have my Miraculous back!” He jumped to his feet and his head gave a particularly fierce throb, but he didn’t care. “Plagg! Claws—”

“Whoa there, Adrien, calm yourself,” Plagg whined. “We really should find Tikki and make sure we know what’s going on before we start transforming and saving the world.”

Adrien sat back down, “You’re right.”

“It’s been known to happen. Now get me my cheese before I have to make any more leadership decisions.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at his kwami, then looked to Master Fu. “So, do you have any ideas about what’s happening, or what we should expect?”

Master Fu just shook his head slowly. “I’m a masseuse who owns a run-down dojo in a dodgy part of town, who happens to own a magical gramophone inhabited by strange, magical creatures that started singing to me. I… I think I’m the last person you should be asking for advice.”

Everyone laughed long and hard. Adrien smiled fondly. “In my reality, in the reality where Chat Noir and Ladybug weren’t just figments of my imagination, you were the Guardian. Well, not recently. A few years ago, you gave up the Guardianship and handed to Ladybug.”

Chloe gave an interested look to Adrien, “You hadn’t told me that.”

Adrien nodded solemenly, “Yes, Ladybug has been the Guardian of the Miracle Box for the last three years. She cares for the kwami, she makes assignments if we need another superhero to help for a while, that kind of stuff.”

“And this is on top of her responsibilities as Ladybug, as well as whatever else she has going on in her personal life?”

Adrien shrugged, “We’ve already gone over how I’m realizing the toll it must take on her.”

Master Fu piped up, “I’ve been hanging out with the time kwami long enough to understand you believe we’re in some kind of alternate reality, but if I’m no longer the guardian, why do I have the Miracle Box?”

Adrien shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. But we must keep in mind that this reality was created out of Ladybug’s desperation. She was overwhelmed and hurting at the time, and,” Adrien paused to extract his physics notebook from his messenger bag and flip to his pages of notes, “if I’ve noticed any pattern in the last few days, it’s that Ladybug seemed to shift things to protect herself and find a little bit of peace. I think that Master Fu came back with the Miracle Box because Ladybug wanted a break from being Guardian, and therefore she reinvented the previous Guardian.”

“Makes sense,” Master Fu shrugged, and Adrien nodded. If it made sense to him, that was good enough. “And certainly explains why you two are the only ones able to see or hear me.” Adrien gave Master Fu a surprised look, but the old man merely shrugged. “It’s been a long week.”

Plagg yawned noisily, “Are you three done discussing your sci-fi mumbo-jumbo yet? I _really_ want my cheese, and that means finding Tikki!”

Chloe grabbed her phone and punched her fingers into the screen, “There,” she huffed, “I ordered a fresh plate of camembert from the kitchen. Happy?”

Adrien laughed, “You’re fighting a losing battle, Chloe. He’ll never be happy—”

“Hey!” Plagg countered, “I’m _always_ happy—”

Adrien pressed on sarcastically, “—until he’s found Tikki and Ladybug and helped restore reality.”

Plagg pouted. “Now listen here, kid. I am not as heartless as you make me out to be. I do want things fixed.”

“Really? And not just so you’ll get your mini-fridge back?”

“Mini-Fridge?” Chloe asked, but after getting quick headshakes from both Adrien and Plagg, decided to drop it.

“No, not just for my mini-fridge,” Plagg muttered. “Because just one time before, Tikki was on her own when she had to re-write reality, and… and it wasn’t a moment I care to remember. So, I’m here to help. Now,” he whined louder, “I always help better on a full stomach—”

As if on cue, there was a sharp knock at the door and Chloe skipped to it and cracked it open— “Your camembert, Mademoiselle,” Jean Pierre’s voice showed no sign of confusion at the request for a platter of cheese before daybreak, but Chloe thanked him and came back to offer the entirety of the wheel to Plagg, whose eyes went wide.

“Ok, kid, this girl’s alright. You can keep her around a bit longer.” 

“Good to know,” Adrien muttered and winked his thanks to Chloe. 

“So what do we do? What’s the next step?” Chloe asked.

Plagg swallowed a slice of cheese whole, then sat on the edge of the platter to think. “You know where Ladybug is?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s obvious you’ve connected with her. She’s remembering things, she’s feeling things again.”

“Sorry, but why is that obvious?” Chloe asked.

Plagg waved a paw over his body, “Because I’m here. Magic is coming back. Ladybug’s changed enough of this reality now that it’s cracking. Things are leaking through. If things keep changing, it’s likely to crumble entirely.”

Adrien smiled, “Oh, that’s great! That means she’s accepting it, we just need to keep doing what we’re doing, keep the communication open, work with her—”

Plagg was shaking his head fervently, “It’s not going to be that easy. Balance must be maintained, and a reality that’s cracked is inherently out of balance. Besides, don’t forget one crucial detail. I’m here. Your Miraculous is back. Tikki probably got called back to her Miraculous the same way, and we have no clue how Ladybug’s going to handle a kwami when she doesn’t even fully accept magic as real. And there was one more Miraculous in use when this reality was re-written—”

Adrien felt the weight of the situation crashing upon him. “Hawkmoth’s.”

* * *

It wasn’t his idea to go to school. It was actually Plagg’s, surprisingly enough, but Adrien saw the logic in it. They didn’t have definitive proof that Gabriel Agreste— _Hawkmoth (_ thinking those names together still made Adrien ache)—knew Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities, only that he suspected them. And even if he did, nobody had any idea of his motivation. The only things they knew had happened were that Gabriel had become violent and had ransacked Adrien’s room, possibly looking for the picture Adrien had drawn of Ladybug. The question then became how to keep Adrien safe and stay in contact with Marinette, both of which were answered best by going to a school crowded with witnesses. Besides, Adrien was too exhausted to think of a better plan, so he and Chloe arrived twenty minutes early that day. The weather was abnormally windy, and both of them had to shield their eyes against blowing dust and debris. Sabrina was spotted a few minutes later, laden with the massive bread sculpture, fighting against the wind. Chloe gave Adrien a quick peck on the cheek and promised to check in later before running over to help Sabrina make it up the stairs. “I think we’ll take this straight up to the Humanities classroom,” Chloe suggested.

“Good plan,” Sabrina puffed. 

“Do you need help--?” Adrien called, but Chloe gave him a rapid shake of the head and mouthed ‘stay here!’ So, he stayed put. He pulled his collar up to keep the chilly wind at bay. He scanned the crowds of students arriving for the bright blue eyes that would take his breath away and mulled over what he would say when Marinette arrived. He _had_ kissed her the night before, and he’d gotten his Miraculous back. Maybe Tikki was with her? Maybe she’d seen the evidence of magic and was ready to reject this reality? Wait, how was that even going to work? Adrien had been so preoccupied with convincing her that she was Ladybug that he hadn’t even thought about the mechanics of ending this reality and returning home. Was he going to do some kind of chanting? Or maybe a secret ritual? He looked at his palms, envisioning them being sliced open with a knife in a cinematic ordeal… was it going to hurt?

The bell rang, pulling Adrien from his reverie. He hadn’t seen Marinette arrive; she must have been just as exhausted as he was, considering she’d been having the same dreams interrupting her sleep. Besides, he remembered with a fond smile, she was a notoriously late person. He ran to his physics classroom just in time. He forced himself to focus on the teacher as time slowly ticked by. The wind kicked up outside, rattling the windows. As the day dragged on, Adrien started wondering if Plagg’s warning about reality cracking was just Plagg being dramatic. Other than the howling wind, nothing seemed strange. He ate his lunch in the school cafeteria and decided that even the wind wasn’t that weird. Weather could be odd—that was hardly a sign that reality itself was disintegrating. He ducked into the locker room and opened his jacket pocket to let Plagg out. The kwami yawned and asked, “What’s so important that you had to interrupt my nap?”

“You claimed reality was cracking, but nothing much is happening.”

Plagg sat on a shelf and scowled at Adrien. “You want proof?”

“Well,” Adrien thought, “I just… don’t think things are that big of a deal.”

“Whatever,” Plagg grumbled. “Do what you like, I don’t care either way.”

Adrien didn’t like that dismissive tone. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Plagg, it’s just that, well, I’ve been nothing but scared since last Thursday night and I’m tired.”

Plagg started rummaging through Adrien’s locker, “Look, kid, I can’t make you do anything. I can’t make you believe anything you don’t want to believe. I’ve shared with you what I know; how you use that knowledge is up to you. Now, did you save any cheese from lunch or do I have to sneak out again?”

Adrien rolled his eyes and handed over the slice of camembert Adrien had set aside just for Plagg, reloaded his messenger bag, and headed upstairs for his Humanities class. He hadn’t seen Marinette all day, not even a quick glance in passing, so he was particularly excited for Humanities. Besides, he was incredibly proud of his bread sculpture. He leaned into his desk when he made it into the classroom—the brief run up the stairs through the courtyard was windy enough that he was shivering. Chloe and Sabrina were already in their seats, Nino and Alix were ready to go… where was Marinette?

The bell rang. The teacher announced the project presentation order. The first group started talking. Adrien’s nerves decimated any lingering hope. His group was next, and he hung back and hardly spoke as Chloe and Sabrina showed off the Colosseum. He returned to his seat next with an empty chair beside him, and thought through every word, every gesture, every nuance from the last several days. Had he blown it again? Had he hurt her without realizing it? Maybe kissing her was way too much, maybe she hated him now—

The door flew open and Adrien’s heart nearly leapt out his chest. Marinette blasted inside, followed by a gust of wind that emptied the papers from the teacher’s desk. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s quite alright,” the teacher insisted. “I got your notification this morning; everything’s squared away for your project, then?”

Marinette nodded and sat down. Adrien suddenly felt stupid—she’d helped him with his project well into the evening, despite not even being in his group. She’d had her own homework to do and had forfeited her precious time just to help him. It was so classic Ladybug—so classic _Marinette—_ that it made him smile and frown at the same time. She was self-sacrificing to a fault. Adrien scooted his chair closer to her and hoped to get her attention enough to give her a supportive smile, but her long hair fell over her face and she kept her eyes fixed in the opposite direction. The group up front finished and was given polite applause. 

“Alright, the last group of the day is our Athens team,” the teacher announced. “Nathaniel, Marinette, Cecille? You’re up!”

Marinette didn’t so much as glance at Adrien as she walked to the front of the room. “So, yeah,” Nathaniel began, “we were assigned to study Athens. We thought about focusing just on the buildings, but, there’s more to it than that…”

Cecille, a bubbly girl with flowing brown hair, took over, “Marinette had a great idea to focus more on the deities worshiped in ancient Greece, rather than just on the architecture. We got some help from Marinette’s friends at _Agreste Design_ —” Adrien gasped, “—and we hope you all enjoy the show!” 

Marinette opened the door and six models strode inside, all wearing elaborate costumes depicting various Greek gods and goddesses. The last, most incredible costume was Athena, but Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, and Aphrodite were all represented. The class oohed and aahed over the costumes, and Marinette’s team talked about their research on Greek fashion, then pointed out elements in each costume. Adrien’s ears were ringing with white noise. He still couldn’t believe Marinette had teamed up with his father’s company. _Don’t read into it,_ he tried to reason with himself. _She probably had the assignment done ages ago. She probably didn’t know anything about who my father truly is. She doesn’t need your permission to work with models and designers just because the business bears your last name._

Eventually, the teacher let the class members come forward and view the costumes up close. Adrien used the din of excited students as a cover to talk to Marinette. She was still avoiding eye contact, but he sidled up beside her just close enough that their shoulders brushed. That mind-boggling electricity raced through his shoulder again as she took a small step to the side. “The costumes are pretty amazing,” he smiled. 

She blushed lightly, “Thanks.”

“So, you worked with _Agreste Designs,_ huh?”

“Adrien…”

“It’s ok,” he added, “I know you probably finished the project days ago, before knowing what you do now.”

She looked at her hands. “Not really, we got the costume idea a while ago, but… but we didn’t finish it up until this morning.”

“Wait, what?” 

Just then, the door opened and the class collectively gasped as Gabriel Agreste strode inside. “Ah, Mademoiselle Marinette,” Gabriel crooned, “It looks like your presentation went well. My apologies for my lateness. After devoting the better part of the morning to helping this young designer with her school project, I had to finish up some work in the office. But it looks like you finished just fine. I trust you got the notice that Marinette would be working with me today?”

The teacher grinned, “Yes, yes, the whole school board agreed that a day working with Gabriel Agreste could count as a mentorship day, and Marinette’s absence this morning was happily excused.”

“Excellent,” Gabriel smiled. Adrien felt sick to his stomach. Gabriel turned to his son, smiling wickedly, “I’m happy to mentor a student, and something about this project really spoke to me. Mademoiselle Marinette, thank you for sharing your talent with me. I look forward to working with you in the near future.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Adrien, son, it’s good to see you well, are you enjoying your time with the Bourgeois family?” Gabriel asked Adrien as the class slowly mulled around. Class had ended ten minutes ago, but the students were enjoying looking at all the projects up close, especially Marinette’s costumes. Adrien bristled.

“What do you care,” he hissed under his breath, “You don’t care about me or my wellbeing at all.”

He chuckled. The sound was strange. Gabriel Agreste never laughed. “Quite the contrary, I assure you.”

Adrien gave him a pointed look. He desperately needed to talk to Marinette, but with his father hovering over them like a hawk, it was going to be difficult. “I’m fine, and I’m not coming back. You’re toxic and abusive and… and I’m getting the help I need.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “If that’s how you feel. You’re, of course, welcome to come home whenever you like. Though, I daresay Mademoiselle Bourgeois’ lawyers will need to be consulted first. A scandal of this proportion is going to take some careful consideration.”

“Wait,” Adrien asked before he could think through his words, “lawyers? Scandal?”

Gabriel leaned in, “You didn’t think the son of Paris’ finest fashion mogul could spend several nights with the Mayor’s daughter without the media catching wind of it, did you?”

“But we’re friends! She’s helping me get away from _you!”_

Gabriel shrugged, “Perhaps you should have thought through this a little more carefully.” Gabriel turned away from Adrien then, thanked the teacher and congratulated Marinette once more, and casually left the room. Adrien immediately felt warmer, though the conversation with his father had left him with nagging dread once again. He knew all his father was trying to do was intimidate him, and despite Adrien being wise to his devices, it was working. Adrien was intimidated. But he couldn’t let his fear hold him back. He located Marinette packing up a few things into her bag, and Adrien returned to her side. 

“Marinette,” he began, “great costumes.”

She sighed and looked up at him, “Don’t patronize me. I know your thoughts and theories about Gabriel.”

The two left the classroom together. “Alright, I admit it, I’m angry that you went and worked with him after knowing the horrible things he’s done.”

She paused mid-stair to turn to Adrien, “Horrible things? Adrien, _what_ horrible things has he done? You claimed he was the one who trashed your bedroom, but we don’t have actual evidence of that. For all I know, you did that yourself so that I would feel sorry for you. I can’t believe I was so naïve! I should have demanded evidence. You… you’ve been playing me for days.”

Adrien gawked in shock. “I… I… I haven’t been playing you, Marinette.”

She angrily resumed her march toward the exit. “You said your father was Hawkmoth. Why? Why do you believe that?”

“Because… because of the photoshoot. He designed superhero costumes that only Hawkmoth would remember.”

_“Remember?_ No, wait, I’m not even going to go into that. I can’t believe I was such a fool.”

“You’re not a fool, Marinette,” Adrien panted, struggling to keep up, “you’re _Ladybug!_ I’m your partner! We’ve been working together for four years. You were akumatized, and Tikki had to rewrite reality to bring us here, so Hawkmoth wouldn’t get your Miraculous. Come on Marinette, please, you’ve got to remember!”

Lightning struck the ground just behind Marinette, deafening and blinding Adrien simultaneously. “STOP!” she screamed, “Just stop!”

He looked at the angry tears coursing down her cheeks. “Marinette, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t play on my feelings again. It’s cruel. Don’t you get it? I… I loved you for years. I tried so hard to tell you, to show you, and all you did was turn me down for some other girl. You had your chance, but it’s over now! Go back to Chloe, or Kagami, or whoever the flavor of the month is. I don’t want you in my life, Adrien.” Lightning struck again, this time hitting the light post to their left. Adrien threw his hands above his head to protect himself from the shower of sparks that fell. Marinette didn’t flinch. 

“Please don’t say that, Marinette. I love you. The girl I was in love with was _you;_ we couldn’t divulge our identities—”

“Our _identities?”_ she spat. “You… that’s what it is, isn’t it. It’s our _identity_. You’re in love with my _identity_ , not with me. But if it came right down to it, you wouldn’t give it up. You wouldn’t give up Chat Noir for me.”

He blinked at her, unsure what to say, “Give up… Chat? Marinette, Paris needs us!”

“No,” she shook her head mournfully, “You need your Miraculous to feel special. You need that ring, nobody else. If I asked you for it, would you give it to me?” She held out her hand expectantly for a moment, and when he hesitated, she backed up and lightning struck the peak of the school entrance above their heads, “Leave me alone.” She spun and ran across the street toward her home.

“Marinette! Wait! Where’s Tikki?” Adrien tried to run after her, but a gust of wind hit him so hard that he was pushed back into the school entrance. “No,” he muttered to himself, “I won’t let you go that easily. Plagg,” he opened his jacket, “we need to help her.” Plagg gave him a wide-eyed warning look, but Adrien was too focused on getting back to Marinette to recognize it. “Claws out!” Nothing happened. “Did you hear me, I said claws out!” Adrien punched the air again.

Plagg sighed. Where’s the suit Ladybug sent you?”

“Wait… what?”

“Where’s your Chat Noir suit?” Plagg asked again. 

“Uh,” Adrien responded sheepishly, “I had to abandon it a couple days ago. I left it in an alley.” Plagg rolled his eyes. “But that shouldn’t matter,” Adrien added defensively, “It’s magic! It comes when I call it on!”

Plagg shook his head sadly, “Sorry kid, but this is a weird, cracked reality. Magic is all messed up right now. That suit was the only one we’ve got.”

“Well, we’ll just go back and get it, then.”

“Sure, kid,” Plagg moaned, as thunder boomed overhead.

However, Adrien quickly realized that saying he would go find his costume and actually doing it were two very different things. The alleyway he’d ditched it in was on the outskirts of Paris, several kilometers away. The weather was horrific, so walking was out of the question. He still had his cellphone, so he pulled it out and decided to call a cab. He dialed the taxi service, and on the second ring a woman’s voice answered, “Adrien? Where are you? Can I come pick you up?”

“I’m at sch—hang on, how did you know this was Adrien?”

“Your father wanted me to tell you that he forgives you and that you should come home.”

“Nathalie? He forgives me? How did you even… are you rerouting all my calls to your phone?”

“I’ll send your bodyguard right away. Just stay where you are—”

Adrien hung up and chucked the phone against the wall, then ran into the whipping rain as it shattered. His father was monitoring his phone calls? He suddenly felt very exposed, and it had nothing to do with the weather. He raced for the nearest Metro station, but hesitated. He could use his metrocard, but that was paid for by his father and was probably also being monitored. He had a few Euros in his wallet, so he purchased himself a ticket. He fought his way through the crowded station and leaned against a pillar as he waited for the train that would take him to the arrondissement where Thomas Astruc lived. 

The ground rumbled faintly as a train approached. Just then, Adrien got a strong push from Plagg inside his jacket, looked up, and saw Gorilla descending the station steps. “Shoot,” he muttered, and dropped to his hands and knees. “Where’s he going, Plagg?” Adrien whispered.

“Just stay low,” Plagg urged as he peeked over the back of Adrien’s collar. “The train will be here in a second.”

“He’ll know I’m on this train, though—”

“I’ll stall him,” Plagg responded before Adrien could register what he was saying. Plagg zipped away from Adrien, who tried to call him back. A second later, a woman shrieked.

“There’s a rat!” she screamed. “I saw it! Right there! It was huge! A huge rabid rat!”

“Look,” a man yelled, “it’s going that way!”

“Eee!” Another woman screamed, “It… it bit me!”

That was enough to cause a few screams to turn into panic. The crowd started yelling and stampeding toward the exit. Gorilla was lost in the hysteria. Adrien grinned as the train came to a smooth halt and he ducked inside. Plagg suddenly appeared beside him, spitting and scrubbing his tongue with his paw. “You humans really should practice better hygiene. You taste terrible.”

Adrien chuckled, “You didn’t have to actually bite the poor woman, you know.”

Plagg looked indignant, “It worked, didn’t it?”

Adrien nodded and tickled his kwami’s chin, “Thanks. Remind me to get you an extra piece of cheese once we get back to normal life.”

“Oh trust me,” Plagg grinned, “I will.”

Adrien pulled out some homework mainly to blend in as the train jostled back and forth on its way to the outskirts of Paris. It took a while to get there and a couple transfers, and the whole while, Marinette’s angry words haunted him.

“Plagg,” he whispered when the train car was empty, “is she right? Do I really only care about myself?”

Plagg popped his head out of Adrien’s jacket to roll his eyes, “I’m not the right kwami to ask.”

“Please, just tell me.”

“No, kid, you’re not selfish. Sure, you can be a little dimwitted sometimes, and the obvious does have a tendency to pass you by—”

“Hey!”

“—but no, you’re not selfish.”

“Why would Marinette think that about me? Why would she ask for my Miraculous?”

Plagg shrugged, but the train was approaching his stop, so he stowed his books back in his bag and made his way down the maze of streets to the alley where he’d left his suit. He opened his jacket and Plagg flew out. “Ok, it’s around here somewhere.”

Adrien knew he’d been in a hurry when he’d taken off the suit, so he turned over some boxes and crates. “Uh, I hate to say it, kid,” Plagg murmured, “but it’s not here.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped as he looked more diligently, “Well, the only other option was that it was stolen. Which I guess I knew was possibility, but I thought I’d hid it pretty well…”

Plagg sat on Adrien’s shoulder, “Even with magic being whacko right now, I should still be drawn to the suit. I’m not feeling it. Sorry.”

Adrien sighed in resignation, even though he wasn’t ready to quit looking just yet. “Maybe I remembered wrong, maybe this is the wrong alley—”

A raspy voice piqued his interest, “Yeah, there’s a blonde kid down here, just like you warned… Yeah—” Adrien froze. Someone was just outside the alleyway entrance, talking on a phone. “—Yeah, he fit the description. Tall, blonde, skinny, built like a model… Ok, yeah, I’ll make sure.”

“Plagg, we gotta move!” Adrien hissed. Both of them looked around for ideas. The alley was pretty tight. There was a fire escape ladder a story above him. Perhaps he could get up there if he jumped off the dumpster? 

The owner of the raspy voice strolled around the corner, “Hey, there, kid,” he spoke casually, “can I help you with anything?” Another two men appeared and flanked his sides. Three against one… Adrien didn’t like those odds. He clambered on top of the dumpster and the men jumped into action. They were racing for him; they were going to catch him—he aimed and leapt for all he was worth. His fingers hooked the bottom rung of the fire escape, which started to descend with his weight. His left hand grabbed the second rung and he pulled upward. On the third rung, though, the fastest man grasped his injured ankle and Adrien let out a wail of pain. He kicked into the man’s face and bought him enough time to pull up another couple of rungs, but the other two men had made it, and each grabbed a foot. Adrien’s fingernails dug into the brick wall as he was dragged down.

“Let me go!” he screamed. His voice ricocheted off the walls, desperate and lonely.

“Now now, kid, it’s ok, we’re not going to hurt you. There’s someone who wants to talk to you, is all—”

“Let me go, leave me alone!” Adrien recognized the sleek silver sedan as he was pushed inside. Nathalie was seated next to him with a very smug look on her face. The car gave a lurch and did a U-turn that made Adrien’s stomach churn. 

“Adrien,” Nathalie smiled, “I’m so glad you decided to come home.”


	20. Chapter 20

Adrien sat very still. He kept his face completely impassive. His father stood with his back to him, looking at the portrait of his mother on the wall. “I’m glad you are here, Adrien. There was no need to run away, of course. You gave us all quite the fright.”

Adrien bit his tongue to prevent himself from lashing out. He didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction. “I didn’t feel safe here.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but Plagg had warned him in a rapid hiss of instructions as he’d been marched inside to keep it simple.

“Oh, no, that won’t do. _Of course_ you’re safe here,” Gabriel crooned. The hair stood up on the back of Adrien’s neck.

“I will never be safe living under the same roof as Hawkmoth,” Adrien spat.

Gabriel turned slowly and examined his son over the top of his glasses. “So, we understand each other at last, Chat Noir.”

Adrien wanted to attack, to rip the man to shreds, but he wanted answers first. “Why? For all these years, why?”

Gabriel swallowed. “You never figured that out? Oh, yes, of course you wouldn’t figure it out. Ladybug may have, but not sweet, stupid Chat Noir.” Adrien bristled but didn’t flinch. “It’s quite simple, really. I did it for the same reason you’re here chasing after Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I did it for love.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you.”

Gabriel scoffed, “Your mother has been gravely ill. I’ve been tending to her, preserving her, waiting for the time I could procure the Miraculous to rewrite reality and save her.”

Adrien’s heart clinched, but he couldn’t lose focus. “Oh, that’s not what I disbelieve—I don’t believe that you have the capacity to love.”

Gabriel’s upper lip twitched, “It is you, my dear son, who doesn’t understand what love truly is. You think love is romance and heroics. Love is sacrifice, love is pain, love is destroying everything for one moment.”

Adrien shook his head slowly, “You’re wrong. Mother wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want you to terrorize a whole city for years on her behalf. She’d hate what you’ve become. You’re a villain. She was a hero.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, “You don’t know anything about her.”

Adrien fought the urge to rip the man’s face off. “I know more about her than you do, you who were always too busy to spend any time with your family. I know she was warm and kind. I know she loved to laugh. That’s more than you ever knew.”

Gabriel made a motion to attack Adrien but restrained himself. The tension in the room was palpable. “You’re a loyal servant, Chat Noir. Nobody can say you’re not loyal.”

Adrien cleared his throat, “Well, if all you wanted was our Miraculous so you could save Mother, why didn’t you just ask?”

Gabriel blinked twice, then glared. “That’s neither here nor there. You’ve rewritten reality already. You’ve managed to nearly destroy this one as well.”

Adrien grinned, “That’s what real love can do.”

Gabriel grew earnest, “You need to stop.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, “And why would I do that?”

“To save your mother.” 

Adrien choked. “What?”

“She’s healing. Without the peacock miraculous in this reality, she’s getting better. She’s… I’m certain she’s going to recover. But the more you meddle with reality, the more Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng changes, the weaker she becomes.”

Adrien stood, made it to his father in two great strides, and grabbed his red and white striped ascot in his fist, “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

Gabriel sneered, “Ah, so you _do_ still care.”

“She’s my mother. Of course I care. Where is she?”

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

Adrien released his father’s scarf and stepped back. “You’re vile. You’d use my own Mother as a pawn to get to me. But then again, that’s what she’s always been, hasn’t she? You call her your motivation; I call her your tool.” But even as Adrien spoke the words, his voice cracked. He loved his mother terrifically. His father’s callous words about her ripped his heart in two. She was alive? She was nearby? She was healing? Would he soon be hugging her, laughing with her once more?

Gabriel smoothed his ascot and adjusted his glasses. “I can tell this is a lot for you to take in. I will let you have some time to ruminate everything we’ve discussed. Stop your meddling. Reality can’t take much more of it anyway. And if it disintegrates completely, are you quite sure that will be a result you’re happy with? Think about it.” Gabriel turned and surveyed the art-deco portrait of Emilie on the wall behind him. “You know where to find me, should you wish to negotiate the terms of your surrender.”

Adrien growled, but couldn’t stay here any longer. He collected his belongings and marched for the exit of the atelier. He paused at the door, brain whirling, “Father,” Gabriel turned to him slowly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.” And with that, Adrien left the room with Gabriel’s gaping mouth emblazoned in his memory.

* * *

Chloe’s face was full of concern as she opened the door to her hotel suite. “Adrien, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, I’m probably getting mud on the carpet.” The rain had been coming down in hard white sheets as he’d walked back to the hotel. Adrien was shaking from cold and shock.

She shook her head, “ _So_ not the right thing to worry about at this moment.” She ushered him inside and ripped his shirt off over his head. She made to undo his pants, but he batted her hand away. “Fine, you wanna be modest now, be modest. But you’re not going to die of hyperthermia on my watch.”

He smiled despite himself, “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure. Take all the time you need. But keep it under twenty-three minutes, that’s how long the hot water typically lasts. I know, ridiculous. It’s a hotel. I’ve had to learn to deal with it.” Adrien felt a surge of gratitude for Chloe. He wrapped his arms around her and didn’t even try to hold back the tears. She patted his back a couple times stiffly, but didn’t push him away. When he finally had his fill, he stepped back. Her clothes were damp from his hug, but she just looked at him. “Better?” he nodded once. “Ok, go get a shower. Then you’ll tell me everything.”

He nodded sullenly and dragged his feet across the carpet toward her luxurious bathroom. “One thing,” he murmured, “I wouldn’t die of hyperthermia. It’s hypothermia. And even that I wouldn’t—”

“Just get your butt in the shower!”

* * *

Chloe had suggested that he’d feel better with a stomach full of hot food and some dry clothes. She was wrong. “I don’t know what to do,” he moaned and traced the lines of Ladybug’s face in his sketchbook. “Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way.”

Chloe took a bite of her cassoulet and leaned back, “Maybe you are.”

Adrien gave her a surprised look, “What does that mean?”

She shrugged, “Have you considered just letting things be? Starting fresh?”

He bristled, “You mean abandon my reality? Abandon Ladybug?”

She shook her head, “Don’t get defensive on me. I’m trying to help, remember? But you should think about it. Not abandoning Ladybug, no, but accepting things for how they are instead of how they once were.” 

He wanted to be angry, but he was too exhausted to put up a fight. Besides, he’d waded through a lot of painful self-discovery in the last few days and been humbled for it. If he couldn’t pause for introspection now, when would he? “I… I don’t know what to say. Paris needs us, they need Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“Not in this reality, they don’t,” she countered.

“What about the Miracle Box? What about the kwami? Plagg, Tikki, Sass, Fluff, even Nooroo—”

Chloe thought for a moment, “What about them? They’re ok. Plagg’s happily raiding the fridge downstairs. Their fate isn’t tied to reality. And maybe they’d be happier without having to constantly fight each other.”

Adrien had never thought about it like that. “Ok, you’ve got a point. Maybe this reality isn’t so bad. Maybe I should just give up.”

“Tell me again what your father said. Just the facts, please.”

He took a bite of dinner and swallowed before responding, “He said he’s been doing this for years because of my mother. He said she’s hurt, I think it might have been the Peacock Miraculous, because in this reality she’s getting better.”

Chloe scratched her chin, “Getting better according to him. When was the last time you saw your mother, Adrien?”

He felt tears prickle behind his eyes, “A-about five years ago. Father told me that she’d gone missing after a trip to Tibet, but after a few months, I came to terms with the fact that she was probably dead.”

“Came to terms, huh?” Chloe repeated, “You just decided it was ok that your Mother was dead?”

Adrien glared, “It’s not ok.”

“But you stopped looking for her, you stopped hoping. You moved on.”

Adrien sprang to his feet, face red, fists clenched, “Shut up! You don’t know anything about it! I mourned for her! I loved her! I miss her every moment of every day! She was the only bright light in my life, ok? It ripped my heart out when she disappeared, and I don’t know how to handle that. Father stuck me in front of a camera and told me to smile so I did. I never questioned when I should have. That’s eating me alive! Was there something more I could have done? I failed her!” He kicked his chair across the room.

Chloe looked up at him steadily, “That’s better. You’ve bottled that up for way too long.”

Adrien threw her a withering look, but she was right. “I… I don’t know how to handle this, Chloe. I thought that maybe if I just smiled enough, eventually it wouldn’t be an act. If I cracked enough jokes, eventually the levity would come from my heart. If I wore the mask long enough, my real face, _this face,”_ he wiped tears from his cheeks, “would fade into oblivion. It almost worked, too. I’ve been more Chat Noir than Adrien for years.”

She stood and walked to his side and cupped his face in her hands. “Adrien, you didn’t fail your mother.”

“I know,” he whispered, “but it sure feels like that. Especially now knowing that if, by some miracle, I can get Ladybug to reject this reality and return to the way things were, I will lose any chance of being with my Mother again.”

“Do you _want_ to stay in this reality?”

He thought about his answer long and hard, “I don’t know.”

“Thank you for being honest, with me, and more importantly, with yourself.”

Adrien nodded. Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist and he returned the hug. “Thanks for being the friend I never knew I needed.”

* * *

_Adrien and Marinette walked slowly along the banks of the Seine as the sun set, sending fiery rays of pink and orange dancing across the sky. The air was warm and fragrant. Adrien tickled her pinky with his and she promptly interlaced their hands._

_The scenery flashed and now they were cuddled together on Adrien’s couch, watching a movie. She had knees tucked under her chin and buried her face into them whenever it got too intense. Adrien laughed at how adorable was, scooted closer, and wrapped his arm around her. She snuggled into his chest and he kissed the top of her head._

_Another flash of light and Adrien was riding in a convertible with the top down along the winding streets of the French Countryside. The day was bright and green. Marinette was in the driver’s seat, her long hair waving in curtains behind her. He reached carefully across and stroked the back of her arm. Her mouth twitched into a smile that made his heart race._

_Flash. Marinette wore a ruffled apron that was covered in flour. Adrien snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She spun into him, laughing as he tickled her ribs. She ran her fingers through his hair, stood on her toes, and leaned into their kiss._

_Flash. Adrien grinned at the envelope in his hand. He’d been accepted to HEC Paris—he still couldn’t believe it. He hovered outside the locker room, waiting for her, excited to revel in the news together. At last, he saw the long black hair bob into view, grabbed her hand and spun her into a low dip where he kissed her deeply. The students around him were whistling and cheering, but Adrien couldn’t have cared less._

_Flash. Marinette dug her toes into the sand as another wave crashed up to her knees and then retreated. Adrien gazed at her beauty, stunned that she’d picked him. He took her hand softly, spoke her name with all the love he could muster, then bowed to one knee._

_Flash. Adrien swallowed the tears back as he locked eyes with Marinette. Her dress was simple and elegant—long white lace that hugged her chest and hips. She smiled brilliantly as she stepped up to the altar and linked arms with Adrien._

_Flash. Adrien ran a finger under Marinette’s jaw, down her neck, across her shoulder, and down her back. She rolled over to face him, smiling once, before kissing him passionately over and over again._

_Flash. Marinette’s stomach was round and firm under Adrien’s hands. There—it bumped his palm again. And again._

_Flash. Marinette was sleeping peacefully as Adrien paced the bedroom with their son in his arms, bouncing softly. He made a quiet shushing noise in the baby’s ear, hoping to buy just a few more minutes of rest for his beautiful wife._

_Flash. Adrien tenderly took Marinette’s hand as their black-haired daughter put on the square graduation cap and smiled for the camera. Marinette leaned her head on Adrien’s shoulder, the two of them at peace with the world._

_Flash. Marinette’s hair was gray and thin, her skin wrinkled, her lips cracked. Adrien still thought she was the most beautiful person in the world. As he reached for her, he noticed that his hands were just as old as hers. He smiled. Every moment of happiness had been etched in those wrinkles, and he was proud of them. Marinette smiled back, leaned in, and kissed him softly._

* * *

Adrien was extremely comfortable, until he rolled over and fell off Chloe’s couch. He stood and stretched, remembering the dream. It had been a very good dream. The last lingering vision of two wrinkled hands made him sigh contentedly. He pulled his sketchbook out of his messenger bag, determined to use his early morning hour to immortalize the image. He found his pencil and started to draw. But it didn’t work. The lines were hard and awkward. He erased and tried again, only to make a bigger mess on the page. Strange. Then again, hands, especially wrinkled, aged hands, were very difficult. He turned to a blank page and tried outlining Marinette’s wedding dress. It had been slender, hugging her chest and her hips, then flaring out around her feet. He tried to draw the curves of her body but instead ended up with what looked more like a vase of flowers than a human being. Thoroughly discouraged, Adrien put his sketchbook away, stretched, and started getting dressed. His ankle felt much better, so he took off the ace bandage, just like the doctor had recommended. The tan fabric rolled away to reveal a fully healed foot, without even a hint of the bruise it had been sporting even the night before. Adrien put his full weight on it and did a few jumping jacks just to be sure—it was completely healed. Adrien smiled, walked to the window, and looked over the dawn breaking across Paris. It was going to be a beautiful day.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat when the elevator doors slid open and he saw Marinette standing in the lobby, staring at her shoes. She looked up at the sound of the elevator, their eyes met, and she blushed.

“Marinette!” he called, “Good morning!” He fought back the urge to tell her all about his dream. That would have been super creepy.

“H-hi, Adrien, I… I wanted to talk to you.”

“Look,” he started, “about yesterday, I’m really sorry I came on so strong. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise I’ll keep my distance, if that’s what you want.”

She blushed even brighter red, “So, um, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about. I-I didn’t mean to be so mean. You… you just wanted to be my friend and I shouldn’t’ve… that is…”

He extended a hand, “Friends?”

She blinked a few times, then smiled and shook his hand formally, “Friends.”

They started walking toward the school together. “So, did you sleep well last night?” he asked. She blushed further, turning properly puce, and nodded. So. She _had_ dreamed about him as well. Had she seen the same future? Had she seen what he’d seen? Was it, like Adrien had determined, a vision of this reality’s future? “Me too,” he added, hoping she would extrapolate his meaning.

“A-Adrien,” her voice squeaked, “a-about N-nino’s party t-tomorrow, did you ever girl a find to go? I mean, did you find a girl to go with?”

Adrien grinned, “No, there’s only one person I was hoping to take.”

Adrien was shocked to find out that Marinette’s face could turn any brighter red, but apparently it could. “Well, I never gave you your answer—” Adrien stopped walking so he could turn and face Marinette properly. She was looking at her shoes again. She turned and tilted her chin towards him, though her eyes were still looking down. Her lashes fluttered, then lifted. Her bluebell eyes gazed straight through him. For a moment, he was certain he was looking at the old woman in his dreams, the love of his life. His head swam with the elation of looking at her. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’d like to go as your date.”

His lips were trembling and his ears started ringing. “G-great,” his voice cracked. “That’d be so cool.”

She giggled. “So cool?”

He swallowed hard. “S-sorry, I’m just not used to being told yes by such an amazing person. And I’m also trying really hard not to scare you off again. If I told you what I was really feeling, you’d probably slap me.” She bit her lip and looked down again, relieving the pressure her presence was creating in his chest. He didn’t like it. “Marinette,” he whispered, and she looked back up at him, “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” He offered his open hand. She looked at it, then back to his eyes, which she studied carefully before slipping her fingers in between his. Her touch had lost that electric zing from earlier that week, Adrien noted. It must have been the familiarity between them—yes, the closer they got, the more comfortable they both were. It wasn’t a bad thing.

“So, uh, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” Marinette said, her voice getting stronger the longer she used it while holding Adrien’s hand, “and I’ve kind of gotten used to seeing you first thing in the morning. Papa too. He was so sad yesterday when I… when I told him you…”

“I’d love to come by for breakfast.” 

They approached the friendly bakery and Marinette stopped in her tracks. “You know what,” she said, looking a the welcoming building, “I just remembered I’ve gotta do something before school. Can I meet you at the park in a few minutes?”

“Uh, sure,” Adrien replied.

“Thanks,” she bounced to her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek, which was enough of a thrill that he didn’t mind when she skipped off in a different direction. Adrien decided to grab breakfast for both of them while she was away. The Boulangerie-Patisserie was as warm and welcoming as ever, with a fresh array of pastries and bread to choose from. 

Tom smiled at Adrien congenially upon his entrance, “Well, hello again young Monsieur. How are you this morning?”

“Excellent,” Adrien beamed. “Breakfast for two?”

Tom nodded and started loading up the proper containers. “So, Adrien, how’d that Humanities project go?”

“It was excellent, thank you Monsieur Dupain. You really saved the day! Marinette’s project was better, of course, but it’s not a contest. I think I’ll still be able to go to University in the fall.”

“That’s great,” Tom smiled. “Where are you planning on going?”

“Well,” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, “For a while I’ve been planning on attending Sorbonne for Physics. I had a full-ride scholarship, in fact, but…”

“But what?”

He shrugged, “But my Father wanted—wants me to take over the family business. The scholarship was because he wouldn’t pay. But you know, things change. I recently started thinking about art school. We have an in at ESMOD.”

Tom grinned, “Ah, EMOD is fantastic. We’ve taken my Mare-Bear there so many times; she loves to watch the student runway shows…”

Adrien cleared his throat, “But I think I’ll go to HEC Paris. It’s a top-rated business school, it’s local, and… it feels right, you know?” 

Tom looked up, “Well, whatever works best for you!” Tom put the finishing touches on their two plates of breakfast. Tom started packaging up some strawberry macarons and asked, “How’s your other friend?”

Adrien suddenly got a lump in his throat, “Uh, sorry Monsieur Dupain, I won’t need more macarons today.”

He cocked his head to the side, “Is everything ok?”

Adrien bit his lip, “I hope so.” He hadn’t seen Tikki for nearly two days. He was terrified for her, but there was simply nothing he could do. He hoped Tikki was with Marinette, but that situation was too delicate to push just yet. Tom handed Adrien the plates of food and Adrien paid for the meal. 

Tom ran the till, then gave Adrien a wink, “For what it’s worth, I’m hoping for Sarbonne.” He pressed the box of pink macarons into Adrien’s hand. “I hope your friend is ok. This is just in case.”

Adrien looked from the brightly colored box back to Tom’s tender smile and nodded gratefully. “Thank you so much, Monsieur Dupain. I… I really appreciate it.”

Adrien had an extra bounce in his step as he raced to what was rapidly becoming his favorite park bench, sat down, and started unpacking his food. Yesterday’s horrific thunderstorm was long gone; the day was bright and fresh. Marinette ran up from the other side of the park, waving. She slipped onto the bench beside him. “Sorry about that!”

“Everything ok?” he asked simply.

She nodded, “It _is_ a beautiful day, isn’t it.” They made idle chatter about the weather, about schoolwork. Adrien was grateful that she was talking to him again, he didn’t much care what they spoke about. Eventually, it was time to go to school, and they walked hand-in-hand to the front door. As soon as they smiled at each other and Marinette went upstairs for her first class, Adrien was thronged by people asking if he and Marinette were dating. He assured them they weren’t but grinned dopily as he sat in his Physics classroom. Marinette was holding his hand. The other students were warming up to him and he was making friends again. He pulled out his notebook and turned to his pages of notes, then turned over a new leaf. At the top, he wrote “Is this reality all bad?” Underneath, he started a new list of everything this reality had going for it:

  * Marinette likes me more now
  * Build new friendships
  * Chloe is super awesome
  * Mother?



* * *

Adrien snuck a peek at Marinette’s Humanities notebook. Considering it was another day of project presentations, there weren’t many notes to take, so Adrien’s interest was piqued when Marinette had opened her notebook at all. She was doodling. The shapes were pretty simple—flowers, her name artfully decorated, and a butterfly with stunning lacy wings—nothing out of the ordinary, but beautiful in their simplicity. He opened his own notebook, wrote, “I thought you said you couldn’t draw” on it, and slid it to where she could see.

She smiled, then wrote back, “I thought I couldn’t draw either.” Adrien spend the remainder of the class period covertly watching Marinette make shapes with her pencil. It was mesmerizing. He tried to mimic her movements and start his own sketch, but just like earlier that morning, it wasn’t working. His hand felt too big and bulky, his pencil lead kept breaking, and soon his paper was more eraser marks than art. Frustrated, he closed his book and turned back to the Aztec pyramid built out of sugar cubes on display. 

When the school period ended, Adrien and Marinette walked to the exit hand-in-hand. She was warm and smelled so good; Adrien’s heart was racing. They talked a bit about the projects they’d seen that day and waved goodbye to some of their other friends. Adrien planned on walking her across the street, but when they got to the outside exit, he gripped her hand tightly as he saw the sedan parked in front of the school. Nathalie rolled down the window and called to them.

“Uh, sorry, I guess I’ve got to handle this,” Adrien started, but Marinette marched straight up to Nathalie.

“Mademoiselle Marinette,” Nathalie spoke formally, “we’ve completed everything, as per our agreement.”

Marinette nodded, then turned to Adrien, “I… I guess I should have said something earlier, but I’ve been working with your father’s company—”

Adrien’s stomach clenched, but he wanted to give Marinette the benefit of the doubt, so he shrugged his shoulders, “That’s fine.”

“I have a… a thing at the mansion… I mean, at your house… do you want to come?” she asked, scuffing her toe on the ground.

Adrien looked back and forth between shy Marinette and austere Nathalie. “What does Father say?” he asked the latter. 

Nathalie’s face was impassive, “He regrets any altercations and would enjoy visiting with you.”

Adrien felt protective of Marinette, even though he knew she could handle herself. He was curious as to what his father might be working on with her, and just a smidgen of hope that maybe his father really was sorry. Maybe… just maybe… he could handle a second chance? For his mother’s sake? “Ok,” he answered, and both he and Marinette climbed into the leather interior of the sedan.

The ride was quick, and Nathalie accompanied Adrien and Marinette into the foyer of the mansion. Gabriel came breezing out of his atelier in a very peculiar manner. Adrien had never seen his father so… _bouncy._ His smile was out of place, his open arms were awkward, his voice was sickeningly jovial as he trilled, “Ah, Mademoiselle Marinette, my dear son Adrien, I’m so glad you both came. I feel such remorse over the last time we spoke. Are you hungry at all? Shall I send for the chef?” Marinette smiled as Gabriel kissed her cheeks. Adrien stiffened when his father turned to him. “Of course you don’t trust me. I’ve done so little to earn your trust.” Marinette shot Adrien a confused look, and he relaxed a bit to set her at ease. He shook his father’s hand and he ushered them in to the dining room, where there was a buffet of food waiting for them. Marinette politely took some strawberries and grapes, Adrien took nothing. The table was loaded with sketches of designs. It was very staged, but welcoming. “So, Marinette, have you had a chance to look over the designs I gave you last night?”

“Y-Yeah, they’re really great,” she nodded, and pulled a portfolio from her book bag and revealed an innocuous set of sketches. “So these two are my favorite, though this one’s growing on me. I was wondering if we added a longer hem, then a little split up the back, that might be a good touch?”

Adrien backed off and let the two of them go over sketches and designs. He marveled at the way his father was listening to her. He was so intent, so eager-to-please… maybe he really had changed. Maybe he was so full of remorse that he was taking Marinette under his wing. The vision from the night before returned, and he clearly saw Marinette in a wedding dress—his parents smiling from the front row.

He blinked back the prickles in his eyes and excused himself to let the two of them work. His footsteps echoed off the walls of the foyer and up the stairs. It was strange, how unfamiliar the mansion felt after just a few days. Today it was sunny and warm, and for the first time, it felt like it might be a pleasant place to live. He found his bedroom, remembering the wrecked state it was in the last time he’d seen it. He held his breath and pushed the door open.

Everything was perfect. His bed and couch were fine, his bookshelf was returned to normal, his furniture was freshly polished, and it smelled faintly of vanilla and rose. Aghast, he paced the length of the room, checking over his sound system, his video game collection, even the closet and bathroom. He flopped on the white couch and looked out the wall of windows. The trees were swaying gently in the breeze. Had it really been so bad? 

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock and the door creaked, “Adrien?” Marinette’s voice softly asked, “Is everything ok?”

He stood and smiled as she walked in. “It’s better than ok.”

She bit her lip, “I told them they needed to fix it. It was the contingency for me working with them.”

“Thanks,” Adrien smiled. 

“They… they said they were just looking for something. Are you angry?”

He shook his head and looked around his pristine bedroom, “No.”

She smiled and approached him, “I’m so glad.”

“Do you think it might have just been a misunderstanding?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know what’s happened between you and your Father in the past, but I think… Adrien… I think he wants to make it right.”

They were close now, close enough that Adrien reached out his hand and she took it. “I think maybe so as well. And I might be ready to try to make it right with him too.”

She smiled broadly, her blue eyes dancing. “That makes me so happy. I don’t want there to be any hurt feelings between you two. Because, you see, your father… he… he just offered me the paid internship and to cover my design school tuition! I-I’m going to be a designer for _Agreste Designs!_ ”

Adrien’s eyes popped as she bounced on her toes. “Wow, that’s… that’s amazing! He doesn’t think you’re too young? No—sorry, scratch that,” he added, shaking his head, “I’m happy for you. You’re not too young; you’re incredible. I’ve always known that.”

She stepped a little closer, “It’s so strange. I’ve always wanted to draw, to design, to _create_ , but I didn’t think I had the talent for it. But your father insists he can see things even I can’t, and today, maybe it was him believing in me, maybe it was something else, but it just started coming together. And then this opportunity—it’s almost too good to be true.”

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh with her, she was so enthusiastic. “You’re going to be amazing, Marinette. I’m thrilled for you, truly.” Her eyes penetrated his soul, and he felt drawn to her. “May I—” he whispered.

She answered without words—her fingers grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled his head down to her level. Their lips collided, her arms interlocking behind his neck. He hugged the small of her back and kissed her more fiercely. She returned his passion. He caressed the back of her head, she ran her fingers over his biceps, until they parted and held each other in a warm embrace. 

“Marinette,” he breathed, “is… is this ok?”

She pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye, nodding, “I… I… I really like you, Adrien.”

He hugged her waist, “Good, because I really like you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so weird.”

She smiled softly, “You’re forgiven.”

“Do you think we could maybe just forget the last week ever happened? Start fresh?”

She bit her lower lip, “I think I’d really like that.”

He cupped her jaw and kissed her again. “There’s only one problem, then.”

She lifted an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

“I want to be a lot more than friends.”

She giggled and whispered, “Me too,” between his teeth as their lips met once more.


	22. Chapter 22

_Chat Noir was flying over the buildings, his muscles aching from effort, his feet propelling him harder and faster and further. He extended his baton, pole vaulted himself up, then spun the baton as fast as he could to helicopter himself to the next building. He pushed himself harder. He had to get to her. “Ladybug!” he screamed._

_She was ahead of him, her body limp and cold, draped over Hawkmoth’s shoulder like a ragdoll. He raced. Hawkmoth jumped from rooftop to rooftop effortlessly. At last he landed on the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, tossed Ladybug’s yo-yo up, and pulled himself up and out of reach. Chat Noir watched in horror as he made it to the top of the tower. He took a running start, then sunk his claws into the metal, pulling himself higher and higher. The wind kicked up as he surmounted the final few meters. Panting, he feebly got to his feet. Hawkmoth dropped her body on the tower and smiled wickedly._

_“Chat Noir. You’re too late.”_

_Ladybug stirred slightly. Chat’s chest filled with hope. “I’m not too late—” he stumbled to her side, lifting her in his arms. She was white as a sheet and horribly weak._

_Her eyes had faded to a dull grey when she blinked at him. “You gave up on me,” she whispered, before her eyes fluttered shut._

_Chat howled in fury and turned to look at the Paris skyline around him. Putrid black smoke rose and stung his eyes._

_“Yes,” Hawkmoth sneered, sweeping his hand to indicate the whole city, flames engulfing the entirety of Paris, “Isn’t it beautiful?”_

Adrien was on his feet running for the bathroom before he fully awoke, and only barely made it to the toilet before violently vomiting his entire stomach’s contents. His silk pajamas clung to his skin with sweat. He collapsed on the cool marble tile, too weak to crawl back to bed. “Plagg,” he whispered, “Plagg, help me.”

He lay on the ground, panting, shaking, aching from head to toe, and slowly regained his strength. Plagg must have been sound asleep, because even though he kept calling, his kwami didn’t come. When he was strong enough to stand without passing out, he filled his bathtub with warm water, then filled a glass to drink. He shakily looked in the mirror. He looked like death warmed over. There was no getting around it. But, he thought bitterly, he still looked better than Ladybug, with her colorless skin and hollow eyes. He turned side to side, examining the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his chin. He contemplated shaving before his bath, but the motion caught his attention. Or rather, the _lack_ of motion caught his attention—he wasn’t glowing anymore. He waved his hand in the mirror to double check. There was no trail of light, no magical aura. When he’d first discovered the phenomenon around himself, he’d felt a sense of dread. That was nothing compared to the emotion that tormented him now. “Oh Ladybug,” he cried to himself, “what have I done?” 

He knew the bath was pointless and shut off the water. He had to make this right, he had to figure this out. He padded back to his desk, pacing and thinking. “Plagg,” he hissed once more, “wake up, I really need to talk to you.” He threw the bedspread back, but it was empty. Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d seen Plagg? Tikki stayed with him all the time, but Plagg often wandered around the mansion or the school, so Adrien hadn’t thought much of it the previous night when he went to bed without saying goodnight to his kwami. Plagg had had to hide almost all day, especially during the heady hours that Marinette had been here—Adrien walked to his couch where the two of them had sat, talking, not talking, enjoying being together, until the sun had slipped below the horizon and she’d reluctantly gotten a ride home. Adrien smiled at the memory, but then frowned again. Plagg hadn’t been there after he said goodnight to Marinette. He hadn’t said hello during lunch the day before. He had been scrounging around in the hotel kitchen during breakfast. Or had he? Adrien had assumed he’d gone looking for cheese, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he hadn’t seen Plagg since Wednesday night, before he considered giving up on the previous reality and accepting this one. 

Plagg was gone. Tikki was gone. Ladybug was dying. Paris was burning. 

A small, demonic voice inside urged him not to care; that reality was collapsing, this was his home now.

“No,” he whispered out loud, “I will not give up on her. I will not give up on Ladybug. I will not fail her again.”

Adrien heard footsteps outside his room. He was too far away to make it to his bed in time and dropped to his stomach in front of his couch. Peeking underneath the white leather, he saw the door crack open and heard his father’s familiar breathing pattern. He couldn’t remember the last time his father checked on him in the middle of the night… he half doubted it had ever happened, even when he was a baby. Adrien’s heart was hammering, but he remained statue-still. He knew why his father was checking to see he was asleep—his father had seen the same peek into the previous reality that Adrien had. He knew Hawkmoth was winning. He knew Ladybug was almost dead. What he didn’t know, however, was how much Adrien knew, or how much Adrien believed. Certainly, if Adrien was willing to go back to sleep after such an unsettling dream, it must mean it hadn’t affected him too deeply, right? Adrien silently cursed his current position on the floor as his father walked to the side of the bed and confirmed that Adrien was not in it. He then walked to the dark bathroom. Adrien curled his body under the couch as best as he could, praying his father wouldn’t see him and ask awkward questions. Finally, the door closed with a soft click. Adrien pushed himself to his feet, panting, then moved with the grace of a cat. He had to know what Hawkmoth was up to. He grabbed a small mirror from his bathroom and stuck it in the pocket of his pajama bottoms, then slowly opened his door. He had practiced sneaking out of his room enough times to know exactly where to step to avoid even the tiniest creak. He took the servant’s staircase through the kitchen and butler’s pantry, back to the dining room and then the main foyer. The doorway to his father’s atelier was slightly ajar—all the better for him. Adrien used the mirror to peek around the open door. His father was standing in front of the portrait of his mother.

Adrien watched as his father did something most peculiar: he reached up and touched the painting. Surely a man with such a background in the arts knew not to touch oil paintings? But as he did so, he pressed in and Adrien gaped as he found out that the painting seemed to be a hidden panel. The floor under Gabriel’s feet started to descend, taking his father with it into the floor. It was an elevator, Adrien realized. He wasn’t sure where it was going, but he had a good guess. He’d always wondered if Hawkmoth had a secret base of some kind, a lair if you will, and this answered that question. Well, if he was retreating to his lair, he probably wouldn’t be back any time soon. And considering it was still in the wee hours of the morning and well before the time any of the staff or Nathalie would arrive, now might be Adrien’s only chance of searching the atelier. He crept in, grateful his Father was too secretive (or was that egotistical?) to keep security cameras in the atelier. Still, he had no clue how long his father would be down…wherever he was, and the thrill of adrenaline kept Adrien’s movements quick and precise. He went straight for the hidden safe. He tried a couple combinations—his mother’s birthday, his parent’s anniversary, but when those didn’t work, he didn’t risk entering a third, for fear of a tamper-proof shutdown. Instead, he turned to his father’s desk. Some of the sketches he and Marinette had been working on the afternoon before were still stacked up neatly in little piles. He thumbed through a couple and was about to look through desk drawers (not that he had anything that he was looking for in particular) when one of the bottom sketches caught his attention.

The model was clearly him. It was a winter outfit—a long black coat, trousers, a turtleneck, and, the part that had caught his attention—a light blue scarf, identical to the one that his father had given him years ago. But, Adrien noted, this sketch had been signed by Marinette. It was her design. He smiled briefly that her talent had apparently returned in full, but he was intrigued. Why hadn’t his father noticed the copyright infringement? His father was obsessive about protecting his intellectual property—how could this simple design of the scarf be overlooked? He looked at the sketch closer. Now overwhelmed with the need to be certain, Adrien took the sketch and returned everything else to its proper order and raced back upstairs. He opened his messenger bag where the blue scarf was still bundled and pulled it out. It was incredibly soft, but that wasn’t his favorite part about it. It had a unique design stitched in. He didn’t know how, but the creator of the scarf had embedded a leaf design that was only visible when he held it at an angle. Even that, however, wasn’t his favorite part. His favorite part about this scarf was the flaw at one end. It was a single dropped stitch, one minute error, something nobody would notice unless they were really looking carefully, but Adrien saw it for what it was: proof that his father—no, the creator of the scarf—had been human. Someone had actually held a strand of yarn in their hands and someone had actually crafted the it one stitch at a time. Someone had cared for him enough to spend hours lovingly working on this birthday gift. All these years, he’d believed that person was his father, but the sketch made him question that belief. He pulled the sketch out and looked closely at the two. The blue scarf in the sketch had a faint leaf pattern marked in.

There could be no doubt. This was the same scarf. His father would never have allowed someone to copy one of his designs so blatantly—even someone on his own team. Adrien had seen his father’s employees be fired for less, so that left only one conclusion: his father hadn’t recognized the design. If his father didn’t recognize the design in the sketch, then that meant he’d never seen or touched the design before. It meant the cashmere yarn had never slipped between his fingers while he was thinking about his son. It meant that the tiny mistake had not been committed by him. It meant the creator of the scarf was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Adrien couldn’t let it happen; he couldn’t let her work for _Agreste Designs._ He couldn’t let his father lay claim to her designs. He couldn’t let her spend one more second around that snake. He tucked the scarf and a few more items in his messenger bag, slung it over his shoulder, and didn’t even try to be quiet as he raced out the front door of the mansion and through the security gates. He knew he’d been foolish, he knew he’d been selfish. He’d been so blinded by the hope of getting everything he’d ever dreamed of—his mother back, Marinette’s love, his father’s respect—that he’d almost lost everything that was real and good in his life. But no more. Screw the consequences, if Marinette hated him after, he didn’t care. He needed her to know the whole truth—no veiled allusions, no holding back in case she ran away. If he was going to lose her, he wanted it to be because he was honest, not because he was selfish.

The back light of the bakery was on. Adrien wasn’t surprised; Tom was a baker who always arose hours before dawn to fill his shop with delicacies in time for the morning rush. Adrien gave a sharp knock before announcing, “Monsieur Dupain, it’s Adrien Agreste. I know it’s terribly early, but I—”

The door flew open. Sabine Cheng looked up at him with an ashen face. “Adrien,” she gasped, shaking from head to toe.

“Madame Cheng? What is it, what’s wrong?”

Her fingers slipped over her mouth as she shook her head. Adrien felt a ripple of shock and fear radiate through him. She backed up to let him in the room, then started up the stairs. Adrien followed hastily, flight after flight of stairs, to the attic bedroom and once more to the loft where Marinette’s bed was. Tom was seated on the edge of the bed, weeping silently. He turned, “Adrien? How did you know to come?”

Adrien shook his head in shock, “I didn’t.” Tom stood, revealing Marinette, pale, weak, limp, and broken. “Marinette!” Adrien sobbed, rushing to the empty side of the bed and tenderly taking Marinette’s pale hand. Her skin was cold. He pressed his fingers into her wrist, begging for a pulse. His heart hammered when he felt the faint rhythm in her artery. “What happened?” he begged Sabine and Tom.

“I don’t know exactly,” Tom wailed. “After you left …what was that… Tuesday night? When we made the bread Colosseum? She was fine. She was angry, but she was fine. She said she had someone she needed to talk to. It was late, but she was absolutely insistent.”

Sabine cleared her throat, “Marinette told me where she was going, dear.” Tom and Adrien looked at her with wide eyes. “It was your f-father,” Sabine finished, her voice cracking with strain. “She said she needed to talk to Monsieur Agreste about… about the way he was treating you.”

Adrien rocked back on his heels in dismay. 

Tom frowned and continued, “She came home, and seemed a little off. But like I said, it was late, we weren’t too worried. The next day she told us she wasn’t feeling well. We let her stay home from school.”

“Wait,” Adrien interjected, “She was at school. Well, not in the morning, but in the afternoon. She came to our Humanities class to make her presentation.”

Sabine shook her head fervently, “No, she wasn’t. She was here the whole day. I know because I checked up on her. Frequently.”

A knot twisted in Adrien’s stomach. _What was going on?_ “So… she didn’t spend the day working with my father on her Humanities project?”

“Heavens no!” Tom puffed out his chest. 

Sabine added, “Definitely not. I tried to ask her what had happened with Monsieur Agreste, if he’d hurt her in any way, but she assured me she was just tired and needed rest.”

“What about yesterday?” Adrien hesitated, afraid of the answer.

“It was much the same as the day before. She rested, she slept. I thought things were on the mend, some random bug she’d picked up at school. Then, about an hour ago, we heard her screaming.”

Sabine dropped her face into her hands, shaking with tears. Tom pulled his wife to his side and started rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. “We came, but we couldn’t wake her. She was violently sick,” Sabine added, kicking at a pile of soiled blankets on the floor beside the bed, “and she cried out… for… for you, Adrien—” Sabine sobbed, “and then she went limp. We haven’t been able to get much out of her since.”

Adrien looked back at Marinette. She was so listless. She was fading. If he didn’t act fast, it would be too late. Perhaps it _was_ too late. Oh, he was _such_ an idiot. He’d spent all day yesterday making out with… not-her, relishing in a life that he knew all along was too good to be true… All the while she was dying. Worse than dying—she was being erased from existence. She’d begged him, she’d given him her talent, she’d given him his magic back, and how had he used it? He’d squandered it on a day of frivolity. It had been so easy to trick him. He’d fallen for the illusion so easily. Was he so desperate? Was he so vain? He was! This entire reality had been created because of his own desperate vanity! He had overlooked her, taken her for granted, and asked her to sacrifice far too much. Oh, he’d assuaged his own guilt by saying he’d taken his share of hits, but had he? What was throwing himself in the line of fire a few times in comparison to her sacrifices? She’d given up her future, her hopes and dreams, her time and talents and he’d… oh, he was disgusted with himself… he’d _flirted._ He’d joked. He’d made fun of her, called her pet names he knew she hated, all the while ignoring sweet Marinette as she stumbled her way through life, scared and alone. Adrien tenderly wrapped the ghostly figure in his arms and kissed her forehead. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered. “I failed you. I failed you so many times. I’m not the partner you deserve. All the signs were in front of me, and I ignored them. I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t. I wasn’t before, and I wasn’t this time.” He kissed her cheeks, kissed the bridge of her nose, kissed her knuckles. He pushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered briefly—just a tiny flicker of hope that she was still alive—but remained closed. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear.

His stomach dropped like a rock. “Where’s her earrings?” Adrien gasped.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sabine asked at the unexpected question.

“Her earrings. Marinette always wears a pair of earrings. Where are they?”

Tom cleared his throat, “I hardly think that matters right now—”

Adrien released Marinette back to the mattress and stood to his full height, looking Tom in the eye, “Marinette needs those earrings.”

Sabine made a little choking noise, “She… she said that she’d struck a deal with Monsieur Agreste. He would make things right with you, with his son, in exchange for the earrings. She told me it was strange—they weren’t that special—”

Adrien was running, he grabbed the handrails on the ladder to the lower portion of Marinette’s bedroom, he was halfway down the stairs, he didn’t intend to stop until he had his fingers wrapped around his father’s throat and watched the life drain out of him one drop at a time—

Strong arms had wrapped around his waist and tossed him effortlessly back into the stairs. Tom was looming over him, bright eyes blazing just like his daughter’s. “You stop right there. You tell us _everything_ you know. Now.”


	23. Chapter 23

Tom and Sabine might possibly be the most incredible people Adrien had ever met. They sat on Marinette’s chaise, hand-in-hand, listening, asking questions, but never flinching as Adrien had explained to them everything he knew about the Miraculous, about the wish, about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and about this new reality. They only exchanged a worried look when Adrien had told them about Hawkmoth and akumas. When Adrien finally made it to the part about the dream he’d had that night—Paris on fire, Ladybug dying, Hawkmoth’s triumphant laugh—Sabine stood (her height hardly changed) and walked to where he was pacing and wrapped her arms around him. It was such a loving, _motherly_ thing to do that Adrien instantly choked up. It had been five years since someone had held him like that. Adrien bit back his tears and whispered, “I’ve failed her. I got so hung up on a vision of a life with her that I didn’t even realize that she was slipping away. Hawkmoth was using her to get to me… no, wait, the other way around. He was using me, my blindness, my inability to see the truth even when it was right in front of me, to get to _her._ ”

Sabine rubbed his back, “Adrien.”

He released the tears and let them flow freely. Tom stood behind his wife and placed a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. They just stood there, weeping together, allowing everyone the opportunity to feel what they needed to feel. 

At last, Adrien backed off, wiping his nose, “I… I’m sorry I don’t have anything to prove all this. Magic, new realities, superheroes and supervillains? It’s… far-fetched, I know—”

Tom shook his head, “It’s actually the first thing we’ve heard in days that makes sense. And the only thing that explains the little red creature that’s been buzzing around the bakery every night, checking on Marinette, and sneaking macarons.”

“Wait—”

Tom smiled, “We _do_ have security cameras.”

“But—” Adrien smiled, “kwami can’t be filmed or photographed.”

Tom shrugged, “I could show you the footage—”

Adrien shook his head, “No time; besides, things were already falling apart. Tikki couldn’t phase any more. I should have guessed that other problems were happening. Though,” his stomach plummeted like a rock, “I had her in the mansion. It’s possible, no, probable that my father caught a glimpse of her as well. Maybe that’s how he figured out who I was?”

Tom and Sabine both shrugged. Sabine touched his arm warmly, “Adrien, we’ve always known something was different about our daughter. Thank you for sharing everything you know. The question now is what to do about it.”

Adrien got to his feet and started pacing again. “Well, Hawkmoth has Ladybug’s Miraculous. I think he’s got my Chat Noir suit. And maybe the kwami. I guess… I guess it’s time to pay my father a visit.”

“But—“ Sabine interjected, “what if he gets your Miraculous? What happens then?”

Adrien looked at the ring on his hand, “I think… I think that’s when he wins.”

Tom shuddered as if he’d been doused in ice water. “Ok then. We can’t let him get the ring. We’ve got to get the earrings and the suit back. We’ve got to help Marinette!”

Adrien chucked despite himself, “Yeah, that’s basically it.”

Marinette gave a soft moan. Sabine raced up the ladder to check on her. Tom and Adrien exchanged worried looks. The sun was coming up in earnest, peeking through Marinette’s round window and illuminating the room in a soft pink aura. It was warm and gentle, starkly juxtaposed to the tense feeling in the room. Sabine announced, “She’s ok.”

Both Adrien and Tom relaxed slightly, but only just. Tom swallowed, “Sabine, dear, are you ok to stay with her for now?”

Sabine nodded from above them, “I don’t know what more we can do. The doctor we talked to last night had no idea what was going on, and from what Adrien’s said, medicine would be pointless. I’ll just try to keep her comfortable.”

Adrien nodded forlornly, “I promise to do whatever I can, Madame Dupain-Cheng.” 

She smiled fondly at him, “Adrien, dear, about what you said a moment ago—you didn’t fail her. Marinette has always done everything in her power to help others. This was her choice.”

Adrien bit his lip, “I wish I could believe that was true—”

“Well,” Tom boomed, “believe it. Come on. Let’s get a plan figured out and get her earrings back. And then maybe, if we’re very lucky, we can save the world in the process.”

* * *

Adrien pushed the front door of the mansion open as quietly as he could. He looked around the foyer—it was quiet. Exhaling gratefully, he strolled across the marble tile floor and was on the second step of the grand staircase, when a piercing voice stated, “Adrien.”

He halted, turned, and smiled sheepishly at his father, “Oh, uh, hi,” he mumbled.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? You’re supposed to be at school!”

Adrien looked around, “I was, uh, with Marinette.” It wasn’t a lie.

Gabriel looked up and down Adrien’s sweaty, rumpled pajamas, and then gave a strange smile. “I see.”

Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, “I… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about it…”

Gabriel adjusted his glasses, “So, you care about her?”

Adrien nodded and grinned. “Very much.”

“You’re happy with her, the way things are?”

Adrien’s stomach gave a lurch, but he kept his dopey grin, “She’s amazing, Father. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and more.” Too much? But Gabriel’s sinister smile only widened.

“Excellent,” he murmured. 

Adrien gave a noisy yawn. “S-sorry,” he smacked his lips, “I didn’t—” he gave a giggle, “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Let me just go grab a few things and change and I’ll only be a little late for class. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He headed back up the stairs, dragging his heels and slumping his shoulders. 

“Adrien,” his father’s voice called him back, “You’ve had a big week. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll have your bodyguard bring you any makeup work. It’s… it’s good to have you back, son.”

Adrien smiled and nodded his thanks and maintained his too-tired-to-go-to-school act until he was safely in his room. He pulled out Sabine’s cellphone and sent a quick text to Tom: **settled. It’s a go.**

It took thirty agonizing minutes before he heard the intercom buzzing throughout the mansion. Someone was at the main entrance, and they weren’t going to leave until they spoke with Monsieur Agreste. Adrien smiled to himself, then slipped out of his room and waited by the top of the stairs until he could confirm that his father was gone. The building was silent except for the hammering thud of Adrien’s heart against his ribcage. He raced down the stairs, into the atelier, and felt the portrait for the buttons he knew were hidden there. Hands shaking, he made connection with the right spots, pressed, and gave a quiet yelp as the floor started descending. He was in a plexiglass tube, feeling incredibly claustrophobic. The elevator took him down for a while, then it lurched sideways, and eventually back up into what had to be a nearby building—nothing about this place was familiar. He came up through the floor and the elevator stopped. He stepped off, looking around, panting. He didn’t even need to have been here before in order to recognize it: Hawkmoth’s lair. The air was frigid and damp. He took a step forward and screamed when the floor came alive—thousands of white butterflies flapped to life from where they’d been resting. Adrien shuddered just looking at them. They hovered a half meter off the floor, as if they were expecting him to do something or say something. Adrien looked around. There was nothing on the walls, just a small round oculus window above him. It reeked of sweat and decay. Adrien frowned. This was the right place, but nothing was _right_. Adrien pulled the phone out. It had been five minutes. Tom had only guaranteed him twenty, so he’d better get moving. He still gave the lair a solid look-over, and when he came up empty, he went back to the elevator. Maybe there was more to this place than just this single room?

Adrien didn’t know how to start the elevator again, so he stomped his foot and magically, it started moving again. It was taking him down, lower and lower. The air grew colder and staler. Then, it slid through a gap in the ceiling of a cavernous room. Adrien caught a glimpse of the ceiling first—tall, arched beams reminded him of a cathedral. Below him, green water filled a pool. His breathing echoed against him and sent shudders down his spine. The elevator glided to a halt and he stepped off, afraid to move, afraid to even look. He was on a catwalk that extended above the pool, and at the end was a dais with a single spotlight lighting the way. He tried not to think of what might live in the green water as he walked forward. His steps rattled and clanked, and he winced with each one, even though he knew he had to be far enough below the surface of the earth by now that no one could hear him. The dais was surrounded by foliage—again, it was eerie… how could such lush plants grow down here? Above the dais was a large window that had been filled in with concrete. The pattern was far too familiar—a butterfly. A butterfly watching over this whole expansive place. Always watching, never faltering, never letting a single emotion or thought pass him by. Adrien snarled in his throat. He moved slowly toward the center of the dais, looking at the strange metallic tube in the middle. What was this thing? Some kind of hyperbaric chamber? An iron lung? A display case? There was a control panel on the side. Adrien started poking buttons at random, trying to decipher what they could mean.

Adrien shrieked as the metal started sliding back, opening. It was… It was his mother.

Adrien’s hands flew forward and took hers. She was cold as ice. Perfectly preserved, but clearly not her alive, vibrant self, Adrien’s beloved mother was lying there. Her hands were clasped over her abdomen, her wedding band glinting in the light from above, and Adrien didn’t know how to feel. 

So his father had told the truth. His mother was still here, still… alive. Maybe? Adrien looked over the control panel again. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it; it seemed to show vitals, but it was impossible. Nobody could be in a coma for that long without so much an IV. It couldn’t have been a normal coma. Besides, her body was cold. Was she dead and his father had her stuf—Adrien gulped at the thought and pushed it away. He fell to his knees, breathing, shaking, and—as the echo told him—screaming. 

It couldn’t be true. His mother was here, all these years! He’d done something to her, kept her down here in this crypt! One truth rang from the ceiling and back to him, pelting him with understanding, drowning him—his father was a supervillain. His father had done this, all of this, for some disgusting reason of his own, and Adrien didn’t really care what that reason was. If he’d been given the chance, they could have mourned together. But no, Gabriel was selfish and always would be. 

It took Adrien a long time to come back to his senses. He wanted to hold his mother’s hands and cry forever, but something about the freshly polished band on her finger made him remember what he needed to do. “It’s ok, mother,” he promised, “I’m going to save you. I’m going to save all of us.”

He pressed some buttons and the metallic tube closed again. Adrien’s heart sank—he hated watching his mother’s face be entombed, but once she was hidden, he was able to focus again. He looked around. Not far from the coffin where his mother lay was another table… altar, perhaps? This looked new, and temporary. He didn’t need night vision to see his Chat Noir suit on the altar.

Sabine’s phone buzzed. He slid it out—there was a message from Tom: **abort!**

“Shoot,” Adrien growled, grabbing his suit. There was a tinkling sound on the dais below him. “No!” The light from the spotlight above illuminated his mother’s coffin-thing well enough, but the rest of the dais and the rest of the room were dark. He knew he’d dropped something when he picked up the suit. Adrien dropped to his hands and knees, fumbling, feeling for anything. His pocket buzzed and Adrien quickly checked the text: **get out NOW!**

Hands racing, heart pounding, Adrien checked in the crevices between the floor panels. Something pricked his finger and he yelped “ouch!” before pulling the tiny object out of the crack of the floor it had been wedged in. He held it in the light and discovered what had poked his finger—the back of small, red and black earring. 

He _had_ to find the other earring. He _had_ to find it now!

The elevator started moving on the other side of the room. It was returning to the atelier above. “Shoot,” Adrien grumbled again. His father would know he was down here. Sabine’s phone was buzzing like mad, but he didn’t pause his search for the second earring to check it. Wait! The phone! He pulled it out and, shaking, turned on the flashlight mode. Scanning the floor desperately, something glinted. The elevator started whirring—it was returning, coming down its plexiglass tube.

There it was! The earring had rolled under the metal tube in which his mother was trapped. Adrien dropped to his stomach and reached for all he was worth. His fingers batted the minute earring back and forth. He reached. The elevator and a slender pair of grey slacks appeared from the ceiling—Adrien shut off the phone’s light, pulled his legs in so he would be completely hidden behind the tube, and prayed that he could get out of there alive. His fingers clasped around the tiny earring, he pulled his hand backward, and rolled into the shadows.

His father’s steps clanged ominously as they stalked toward him. “Adrien, I know you’re down here. There’s only one elevator, and in this reality, Nathalie doesn’t know this place exists.”

Adrien stuffed his fist in his mouth to prevent from making a peep, and crawled, following the line of shadows, to the far edge of the dais. 

“You don’t need to hide from me,” his father hummed, “we can work together. You enjoyed yesterday; I know you did. It can always be like that.” Gabriel’s feet were mere meters away, “I knew something was wrong with the Tsurugi girl, as soon as I saw the way you glowed when she was around. I knew there was something unnatural about your relationship. Poor little Ladybug—” the way he hissed Ladybug’s name made Adrien irrationally angry, “—she was _so_ convinced you two were together, I’m afraid she pushed a bit too hard. But don’t worry, I’ll get it right. I’ve already done so much better, am I right? You much prefer this version of Marinette. Sweet, simple, doting, compliant Marinette.”

Adrien looked over his options. His father was right on the mouth of the catwalk, and unless he planned on swimming through the sinister green water, there was no other way to reach the elevator. He silently tucked the earrings in his sock, not trusting his wide pockets to handle such a delicate job. Then, he rocketed to his feet, “Don’t talk about her. You liar!”

“Oho,” Gabriel chuckled, turning to his son, “so _there_ you are. Enjoying what you’ve found? I trust you saw her,” Gabriel placed his hand on the tube where his mother lay. “See? I told you I had her and that she was alive.”

Adrien shook his head, “She would hate this. You know it. She wouldn’t want to be kept like this, like some creepy science experiment. She would want to rest.”

Gabriel sneered, “I can heal her. We are so close, Adrien. Just give me the ring, and she’ll be fine. I’ll give you a Marinette so perfect, you’ll never be the wiser. I’ll even erase all your memories of this week; you won’t be haunted any longer.”

Adrien puffed out his chest, “Don’t you get it? My memories make me who I am! I don’t _want_ to forget; I want to learn and remember and do better!”

Gabriel growled and lunged for Adrien. Adrien, arms full of black Chat Noir suit, pushed hard back. The two locked in battle. Adrien swung his fist and connected with Gabriel’s chest. The older man stumbled but latched onto the suit with his claw-like fingers. Adrien didn’t even think—he let go of the Chat Noir suit. Gabriel’s momentum carried him backwards and over the railing into the putrid water. Adrien made a run for it, the catwalk clattering, the water splashing, Gabriel screaming—and skid to a stop in the elevator. He stomped hard until the elevator slowly started rising. 

“Come on,” Adrien screamed at the tube, “Go go go!” Gabriel was climbing out of the pool, dripping oozy slime from his normally pristine clothing, and racing toward the excruciatingly slow elevator. “GO!”

Gabriel jumped—his fingers gripped the edge of the elevator floor. Adrien stomped on the long fingers, Gabriel howled and let go—and the elevator was encased in the plexiglass tube and just out of reach of Gabriel’s desperate grasp.


	24. Chapter 24

Marinette was waiting for him when the elevator halted in the atelier, giving him a soft look. “There you are, hot stuff,” she giggled at the nickname she’d invented. “I’ve been so worried about you today. Why weren’t you at school?”

Adrien gripped his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, “No, this isn’t real. This isn’t right.”

He looked back at Marinette. She was glowing, not the soft gold that everyone else out of balance glowed, but light purple. Adrien shivered. She smiled sweetly, “What’s the matter, Adrien? Did I say something wrong?” He shook his head and bolted for the door. “Adrien! Wait! I can help you!” The elevator gave a sudden lurch and started descending. His father would be returning, and Adrien didn’t have much of a head start. What he wouldn’t give for a Cataclysm right now! Panicked, Adrien bolted for the door. The floor of the mansion started shaking. He barely made it out of the foyer before the massive chandelier broke free of the ceiling and crashed down in a waterfall of crystal and glass. 

The doors banged shut behind him, but outside was even worse. The wind from a few days previous had picked back up, and Adrien fought against the gale as he pulled out Sabine’s cell phone. He dialed the number and Tom picked up on the first ring, “Adrien?”

“I’m out! But I’ve got maybe a two-minute head start, tops.”

“Don’t come here. We moved her.”

“Where are you?” Adrien panted, running into the blind.

“Someone’s coming to get you.” The line went dead. Adrien ran around the corner and came in view of the Boulangerie-Patisserie between the park and the school. A sleek silver sedan was parked in front of it. Adrien’s heart hammered in his chest as he dove behind a bus stop to avoid being spotted. The ground started shaking again. He gripped the edge of the bus stop signage to prevent himself from falling over, feeling overwhelmingly dizzy. He rubbed his palms into his eyelids, and when he opened them, the whole world was flashing colors—gold and purple in a violent competition for dominance. He glanced at his hands—they, too were flashing back and forth. 

Suddenly, a brilliant gold car skid to a halt in front of him. The door flew open and Kagami, face streaked with soft gold light, beamed at him. “Get in!”

He complied. He didn’t even have the door shut behind him when the car took off. Adrien peeked out the back window and saw the silver sedan pull away from the Boulangerie-Patisserie. “We need to lose them,” he panted.

Kagami gave a terse nod and gave the car a string of commands in Japanese. The car lurched forward and flipped around a corner; Adrien clicked his seatbelt in place and held on to the door handle for good measure.

“Where’s Marinette? The _real_ Marinette?” Adrien questioned Kagami.

“I don’t know, I just knew I had to find you.”

Adrien blinked, “Wait, who called you? Tom?”

She shook her head, “No, I just had an overwhelming impression that I needed to go to that bus stop and find you right then.”

“And you did?”

She gave him a narrow look, “Like I said, it was overwhelming.”

“This is… really weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Kagami said nonchalantly. 

“Well… Thanks, then, for not abandoning me.”

“Care to explain what’s going on?” Kagami asked.

Adrien looked out the back window again. The sedan wasn’t visible, but he still felt uneasy. “I don’t think I’ve got the time to give this very strange situation justice,” he answered. 

“Ok, fine,” Kagami shrugged, then ordered the car to take them to an unfamiliar address. 

“Why are we going there?” Adrien asked.

She gave him a strange look, “It felt like the right place to go.” Then, her skin flamed gold so bright Adrien had to shield his eyes. He looked outside—Paris continued to flash purple and gold. Adrien began feeling quite queasy and was grateful when the car made its final rapid U-turn and screeched to a halt.

“Go. Good luck!” Kagami wailed as Adrien jumped out of the already-accelerating car. He hid behind a garbage can just as the silver sedan whipped around the corner and sped off, chasing down Kagami once more. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

The building was a simple bank of row houses with an overgrown garden in front. He walked forward and looked at the name on the front gate—in faded letters, it read “Rolland Dupain.” Adrien pushed the buzzer.

“Who is it? What do you want?” the tinny speaker barked.

Adrien cleared his throat, “This is Adrien Agreste, I’m looking for Marinette.”

The front door creaked open and Adrien saw a pair of piercing eyes and a bushy mustache peek out. “Can I _crust_ you?” the voice commanded over the speaker.

Adrien smiled at the pre-determined passcode, “You’re all I _knead.”_

The voice over the speaker was holding back a chuckle, but still had to verify, “I still _doughnut_ know if I can trust you… will you _rise_ to the occasion?”

Adrien pressed a fist to his lips, swallowed to contain himself, and then clearly spoke, “Yes, we’re _bready_ for action.”

The gate lock buzzed and clicked, and Tom threw the front door open for him. “You found us!”

Adrien grinned, “I’m so glad you’re all safe.” Sabine was waiting by a couch. Marinette was lying on her side, looking even worse than when Adrien had left her an hour previous. “So nothing’s improved?” he whispered.

Sabine shook her head. Adrien knelt on the floor beside Marinette’s limp body and stuck his fingers down his sock, pulling out the two tiny earrings. He threaded them through the holes in her earlobes, being as gentle as possible. “Here’s hoping this works,” he muttered, and kissed her pale forehead. 

“Adrien,” Tom whispered, “do they know you’re here?”

Adrien nodded, “Most likely. Kagami’s taking my father’s goons for a wild goose chase, but that can only last for so long.”

“Kagami? You told her where we were?”

Adrien shook his head, “No,” he brushed the hair away from Marinette’s face tenderly, “Marinette did. She’s still got some control over this reality; she’s still fighting him however she can.” Adrien gulped; his mouth achingly dry. Marinette’s grandfather padded over in his slippers and patted Adrien’s shoulder.

“She’s going to be alright,” he acknowledged. “I have a good feeling about this.” Adrien looked to Sabine, who was now glowing a light golden color.

She nodded, “Me too.”

“Me three,” Tom grinned, his face glowing brighter than the others. 

“Now,” Roland declared, “who needs bread?”

“Papa!” Tom moaned, “This is hardly the time—”

“I’m sorry, son, but it is _always_ time for a slice of fresh bread.”

Adrien chuckled and stretched his back as his stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food. When was the last time he’d eaten? The day before, probably… “A slice of bread sounds great.”

Adrien sat at Rolland’s table, his senses and emotions completely worn out. The bread he was given was perfect—simple, delicate, homey. He felt his nerves softening and realized just how hungry and overwhelmed he had been. 

“So,” Tom asked, taking a seat next to Adrien and adding a spoonful of jam (Rolland glared at him) to his bread, “want to tell me what happened?”

Adrien took a drink of orange juice that Rolland had provided, and then recounted everything that had happened in Hawkmoth’s lair. Tom was a great audience—he gasped at all the right moments, got teary when Adrien recounted finding his mother entombed in some kind of coffin, yelped when Adrien talked about his father’s arrival in the lair, and shouted “No!” when Adrien relayed the narrow miss at the end. Adrien felt a renewed fondness for Marinette’s family, and an aching chasm grow within him for not having a similar support system of his own. He shook off that depressing notion—he could mourn his family situation later. Now it was time to focus.

“So,” Tom pondered, “you got the earrings, but not the suit. That’s probably disappointing, huh.”

Adrien shrugged, “Without my kwami, there’s not much I can do even with the suit. I got the more important item.”

Tom gave him a very fatherly smile, “That… that touches my heart, to hear you say that, Adrien. You could have made it out of there with your suit if you hadn’t stayed to look for my baby girl’s earrings, you know.”

Adrien shook his head, “Without Ladybug’s earrings, _none_ of us are making it out of here intact.” He leaned back and rubbed his neck, “I just wish I still had Tikki to talk to. Or Plagg. Or _anyone_ that might know what’s going on and how to fix it. I wish Marinette were awake,” he looked over to where she lay, then walked to her side and tenderly held the hand that wasn’t already in Sabine’s lap. He smiled softly, “She’s warmer!” Sabine nodded, stroking her daughter’s hair. Adrien noticed something else, “Whoa! Her earrings—they’re glowing!”

Sabine’s head snapped toward Adrien, “They are?” He had told her what that meant. She looked both eager and terrified. 

Marinette’s eyelids fluttered and she gave a little moan. 

“Marinette!” four excited voices called at the same time. 

“Quick, get her some water!”

“Back up, everyone, she needs air!”

“Everyone calm down!”

“Shh I think she’s trying to say something!”

“Marinette, dear, are you ok?”

She coughed, “D-don—” her voice was so weak. Adrien’s heart was breaking. She tried to move again, and Sabine rubbed her arms and forehead to encourage her to relax. “Don’t—” Marinette’s voice was barely audible. Everyone leaned in, “—give up on me.”

* * *

_Ladybug was gasping for life, her breath shallow and rattling. “Don’t give up on me,” she whispered, barely audible over the roar of the inferno around them. She had so little strength, it was painful to watch her collapse to the platform on the Eiffel Tower._

_All Chat Noir could do was cry, “Hang on, Ladybug! I’m coming, I won’t give up!”_

_“Don’t you get it?” Hawkmoth’s derisive voice sneered, “You’ve already lost!”_

_“No, Hawkmoth,” Chat growled, getting to his feet and baring his teeth, “you’ve lost.”_

_“Look around you, you foolish child,” Hawkmoth’s nose wrinkled as he swept his hand over the burning city, “this reality is almost totally destroyed. Even without your Miraculous, I win. My new home without magic, without the Miraculous that has damaged my Emilie, without_ you _awaits me.”_

_Chat Noir shook his head, “It’s not right. It’s not going to be the way you want it. You would know it was a lie, all of it, and she would never be your wife.” Chat yelled, choking back tears as he came to the painful realization that he had to give her up if he wanted to save reality, “She wouldn’t be my mother. She wouldn’t be the same.”_

_Hawkmoth only grinned wider, “If you don’t want to be part of the glorious rebirth of reality, that’s your choice. I gave you the dream you wanted, and you rejected it. That’s your choice, not mine!”_

_“There’s always a price!” Chat screamed desperately, “There’s a price to pay!”_

_Hawkmoth threw his head back and issued a cruel, icy laugh, “That’s the best part! I’ve made my decision, I know the sacrifice… the question is, do you?”_ _With that, Hawkmoth lunged at Chat, and the two tumbled over the edge of the tower, locked together in battle, falling into the firestorm below…_

“Adrien! Come on!”

“What happened?” Adrien was on all fours, head pounding. “How did I fall asleep?”

“I don’t think you _were_ asleep,” Tom bellowed, “but that hardly matters. We’ve got to go, now!”

Adrien was so dizzy that he could barely stand, and still was off-kilter from the reality shift, but he looked around to gain his bearings.

Marinette was standing, supported between Sabine and Rolland. Tom was steadying Adrien. Marinette’s eyes were half-open, and she kept murmuring, “Don’t give up on me!”

“She’s awake!” Adrien cheered.

“GO, NOW!”

Adrien looked outside. Paris—this Paris, this reality—was on fire.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

“Put this on your faces!” Adrien screamed, throwing the tea towels that he’d just dunked in Rolland’s dish water in the direction of Marinette’s family. Sabine and Rolland were hobbling toward the door with Marinette in between them. She was strong enough to put some weight on her feet, but she was still incoherent. Eerie purple flames had already engulfed the upper floor of Rolland’s house and two of the buildings next door.

Adrien desperately looked around. _What would Ladybug do? How would she fix this?_ Adrien placed a hand on Sabine’s shoulder, “May I?” he asked softly. She looked up at him in relieved understanding and nodded. Adrien scooped Marinette up in his arms and Tom opened the door for all five of them. The air outside was marginally better than inside, but seeing so many buildings on fire still kicked Adrien’s anxiety into high gear. Besides, here on this street, surrounded by purple flames, they were still trapped. 

“Rolland,” Adrien called, “Do you have a vehicle? Does anyone?”

“I’ve got an old motorcycle with a sidecar,” Marinette’s grandfather wheezed, “but it’s not in great shape.”

“It’s better than staying here and burning to death!” Rolland nodded in agreement and hobbled off. 

Tom and Sabine exchanged worried looks. “What do you think?” Sabine asked Adrien, “Where should we go?”

Adrien looked at the purple flames engulfing the rows of houses flanking the street, “We’ve got to end this, one way or the other.”

“But I thought you said Marinette had written this reality,” Tom noted fervently, “and she’s not exactly in a fit state to be rewriting it just yet!”

Adrien looked at the beautiful girl in his arms. She blinked up at him. He thought he saw a stir of recognition in her faded blue eyes, but then her eyelids clamped shut once more. “The earrings are working. Tikki’s last magic is healing her,” Adrien stated, sounding much more confident than he felt. “We just need to give her time.”

Rolland’s motorcycle engine roared to life and the old man pulled the rickety bike to the street in front of them. Adrien settled Marinette into the sidecar, as everyone silently spoke the same concerns. Adrien looked up at the small vehicle, then looked to Tom and Sabine, “Take her somewhere safe!”

Tom and Sabine looked at each other. The roof of Rolland’s home collapsed, sending purple sparks and debris showering over them. “No, son,” Tom pushed Adrien’s shoulder, “It’s you. Go. Save her. Save us!”

Adrien’s stomach flipped in knots as a wave of heat caught him from the crumpling buildings around him. Biting back the lump in his throat, Adrien straddled the bike and popped the clutch. It lurched forward. 

“Come on!” he tried one last time, scooting forward on the seat to try to make room for the others.

“GO!” Sabine and Tom yelled in tandem. Adrien kept his eyes straight forward, refusing to even peek in the rearview mirror as he flew down the blazing corridor. They would be ok. They would figure out how to get out of here. Marinette would save them, just like she had saved Adrien by sending Kagami in the car. It was going to work out. They were all going to be ok. 

Right?

No, he couldn’t let himself doubt, not now. The motorcycle lurched beneath him. He had so little experience driving in general and had only ridden a motorcycle a couple times as part of a photoshoot, but now wasn’t the time to be cursing his inexperience. So what if the motorcycle lurched? He urged the old machine forward, hot, putrid air whizzing past his face. He barely heard Marinette’s soft moan over the roar of the engine and the blazing fire around him, but he stole a glance at her. She had her hands over the makeshift mask on her face. Adrien felt a surge of relief to see her cognizant enough to do even that much. “Hang on, Marinette,” he yelled, “I won’t give up on you! Hang on!”

He darted between flaming buildings and over the Seine. The water was angrily roiling in white, foamy rapids. He knew where he had to go—Hawkmoth had shown him… was _still_ showing him, as Adrien noticed grimly. If he thought about the other reality at all, it was still there, still visible. He was there just as much as he was here, split evenly. Chat Noir and Adrien, the same person, fighting for life in both realities. 

The Eiffel Tower loomed above him. He killed the engine and looked up. There he was—Hawkmoth, on a platform about halfway up; Adrien could just make out his purple suit. 

“Adrien,” Marinette murmured beside him. 

He whipped around to look at her, “Marinette, can you hear me?”

“Don’t give up on me!” she whispered earnestly.

“I won’t!” he promised. Helping her to her feet. She took a few feeble steps, then collapsed in his arms. “Hang on, Marinette!” he chanted again, and carried her to the quiet glass elevator that would take them to Hawkmoth.

Inside the elevator, away from the smoke and the fire, a sudden calm washed over them. Adrien cradled Marinette’s head against his shoulder. She was so tiny, so fragile—he marveled at how such a person could also be the fierce and powerful Ladybug. She’d carried so much on those petite shoulders. “Marinette,” he whispered, kissing her forehead tenderly, “I’m so sorry that I let you carry your burdens alone. I’m so sorry I never saw you for all the amazing things you are. I love you. I love you for being _you._ I love how protective you are of your friends and family. I love how you get flustered when you talk to me. I love how you’re creative. I love your strength and your passion. I don’t just love Ladybug, I love you—all of you.”

“Don’t give up—” she whispered.

“No, please don’t give up on _me_ ,” he emphasized. “Please, please forgive me. Please give me another chance. I only ever wanted to be the best partner I could be. I tried; I really did! I know I failed more times than is fair, but, Marinette, I _want_ to be your equal. I want to be there for you every waking moment. Please don’t give up on me; I love you!”

The elevator bounced to a halt and the doors slid open. Marinette’s slender arms squeezed him so subtly that if he hadn’t been attuned to every tiny motion, he might have missed it. He set her down softly, pulled the wet rag back over her nose and mouth, then marched forward toward the man in purple.

“Hawkmoth.” Adrien growled, “This ends now. Stop what you’re doing and surrender. You know as well as I do that none of us are making it out of this alive.”

Hawkmoth spun on a toe, “Nice try, Chat Noir. Just give me back the Miraculous and you will get your wish!” Adrien shook his head, not wanting to hear any more of his father’s malevolent monologue, and raced forward, swinging a punch. Hawkmoth ducked and returned a blow of his own, catching Adrien in the stomach. “You want to play rough, then? Fine. Paris is falling, reality is almost fully disintegrated. You’re out of time.”

Adrien punched and kicked; Hawkmoth returned the blows.

_Chat Noir sunk his claws into the support rail of the tower and screeched to a halt. He extended his baton to full battle-staff, spinning and connecting with Hawkmoth’s cane. The two sword fought across the platform, parrying and slicing at each other. The staff connected with Hawkmoth’s shoulder._

Hawkmoth screamed in pain as his shoulder split open. He jumped, spun, and planted a roundhouse kick on Adrien’s chest. Adrien flew backward, hitting the ground hard a meter away from Marinette.

_Chat Noir growled, arched his back and sprung to his feet. Ladybug looked at him helplessly, “Chat, you can do this!” she whispered, before her head lolled backwards once again. Chat raced forward, teeth bared, claws ready._

Adrien connected a right cross with Hawkmoth’s jaw, then spun and swept his feet out from under him.

_Chat Noir pressed his staff against Hawkmoth’s throat, pinning him down. “It’s over! You’ve lost!”_

Hawkmoth growled, “You’re pathetic. You think that by knocking me to the ground you’ve somehow won? Look around you, Adrien! You really are a disappointment to the Agreste name, you know that?”

_Ladybug stirred behind him, “No, no he’s not. He’s the best partner and my best friend. We’re never going to stop fighting you, Hawkmoth.”_

Marinette stumbled to her feet, “You… you need to stop hurting him. He’s only trying to save lives.”

_“Ladybug!”_

“Marinette!”

_Hawkmoth kicked upward, trying to free himself from Chat Noir’s grasp. Chat pressed down harder. “If I die right now, I will die in peace knowing you will never hurt another person ever again.”_

Marinette’s tiny hand touched Adrien’s shoulder. “Adrien,” she whispered—

_“Chat Noir—”_

He turned, “My Lady?”

Marinette bit her lip, wiping a tear from his cheek, “Partners?”

Adrien gasped, “Partners.” He released Hawkmoth’s throat and reached for her with his right hand. 

“NO!” Hawkmoth screamed, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s neck in a chokehold. Adrien’s fingers grasped at air. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed by Hawkmoth’s weight. White stars popped across his vision. He was losing consciousness, he was falling—

Electricity jolted him back to life as Marinette’s warm fingers took his. She interlaced their hands, and Hawkmoth was blown off Adrien’s back by an eruption of light.

_Chat Noir and Ladybug were surrounded by a shield of raw energy. Echoes of realities past danced around them. The two looked at each other. Her earrings glowed; his ring glowed._

Tikki and Plagg suddenly appeared before Adrien and Marinette, smiling, before zooming forward to connect with their Miraculous. Adrien and Marinette were lifted off their feet by the power of it all. Memories started flashing before Adrien’s eyes—memories of his mother, memories of school, memories of Chat Noir tangled up in Ladybug’s yo-yo string, memories of Marinette stuttering. 

He _loved_ Marinette stuttering. As soon as he acknowledged that, the memory passed by him and he saw, in the distance, that memory becoming reality once more. He focused on each memory, willing each to cement. He heard Marinette’s memories as well—they were so connected, there were no hidden moments between them. He saw a smiling version of himself, like a reflection, holding out an umbrella to her, and he felt her reaction. He saw her memories of Chat Noir throwing himself in the line of fire again and again to save her. He saw the back of his head through her eyes, he felt her ache and yearned for himself to just turn around and see her. He felt the weight of Guardianship on her shoulders.

“Marinette,” he cried, “you don’t have to keep it! You can let the pain go!”

She looked at him through the glowing vortex of memory, “There would be a price.”

“Let someone else pay that price, for once!” he cried, regretting it the instant it left his lips. “Let _me_ pay the price!”

She squeezed his hand, “You would do that?”

He nodded. The memories swirled around them even more intensely. The bond was getting hotter, harder to hold on to. 

She smiled softly at him, “No, Adrien, we’ll pay the price together.”

He bit his lip, gripped her hand even tighter, and nodded, “Together.”


	26. Chapter 26

“Dude, are they ok? Maybe we should call the nurse.”

“Nah, they’re just sleeping.”

“ _Both_ of them? At the same time?”

“It’s not like we’re being quiet either! They both just passed out!”

“We really should call the nurse. Nino—”

Adrien blinked, unsure of his location, the time, or anything, really. “S-sorry,” he moaned, rubbing the back of his neck and sitting up, “What’s going on?”

Everyone laughed, despite him being perfectly serious. He rubbed his eyes into focus and saw Marinette sitting next to him in their familiar Humanities classroom. She had her hands pressed into the sides of her face and was rubbing little circles there.

“Sorry,” Adrien repeated, “I don’t know what happened.”

Nino was laughing the loudest, “I never thought I’d see the day when Adrien goody-two-shoes Agreste falls asleep at his desk!”

“And at the same time as my girl!” Alya crowed.

“Do you have to be so _loud_?” Marinette whined. She adjusted her pigtails. Adrien ran his hand through his hair—his classic Chat Noir length hair—and then Marinette turned toward him. Their eyes met. The look on her face was indescribable. Something passed between them, a mutual understanding, a mutual remembering. The events of the last week swirled hazily in Adrien’s memory, and he wasn’t sure whether it had all been a dream or whether it had been real. Maybe both? Yes, both. But looking at Marinette, in that moment, reality was redefined. They had shared each other’s soul, and no matter what had led to that, they would never be the same.

He tentatively reached across the table, toward her hand. She glanced at his fingers, then returned her eyes to his gaze. They touched, and electricity buzzed between them as powerfully as ever.

“Marinette,” he whispered.

Her blue eyes sparkled with understanding, “Adrien.”

“Oh, are we doing introductions now?” Chloe laughed from the other side of the room, “I’m Chloe, and you two are ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

The class laughed and started gathering their things to leave. Adrien didn’t look away from Marinette’s face to even check the time—it wouldn’t have mattered if the whole world was on fire, he was never going to let her go again. Wait, _was_ the world on fire? A hazy, smoky memory bubbled to the surface.

“Paris!” he gasped.

She smiled, “They’re fine.”

He relaxed. Nino clapped him on the back, and he jumped, jolting out of his reverie. “Hey, bro, I never heard back from you. You coming tonight?”

“Uh…” Adrien looked up at Nino, who was adjusting his ballcap. “What are we talking about?”

Nino guffawed and rolled his eyes, but it was Marinette who answered, “His party tonight. You… you asked me to go with you.”

Adrien’s head snapped back to Marinette who was blushing lightly. “And… and you said yes? Or was that not…?”

She smiled coyly, “I _did_ say yes, didn’t I.”

Adrien grinned up at Nino, “Count us both in.”

“Excellent.”

“But, I should check in at home,” Adrien remembered with a pain in his stomach. 

Nino nodded, “Sounds good, say hi to Gorilla for me.”

Marinette smiled, stood, and took Adrien’s hand, “Hey, want to come on a walk with me?”

“Yes.”

Alya’s jaw fell to the floor, “Wait, what in the world is going on with you two?”

Marinette shrugged, squeezed Adrien’s hand, and marched them out of the room. Once on the staircase, Adrien laughed. “You know we’re both going to get cornered for this.”

She giggled, “Definitely.” She didn’t say anything more, she just guided them out of the emptying school, across the street, around the corner, and to the park bench that seemed to be calling out to them. They sat down, watching the pigeons pecking at the ground in front of them. She cozied up to his left side, gripping his bicep with her right. “Adrien,” she finally whispered, “what do you remember?”

He thought for a while, “You… you’re… I mean… I love you.” Of anything, of all the strange, disorienting memories that continued to swirl just out of grasp, the only thing that was real, the only thing steady was his overwhelming love for this incredible girl by his side. “I love you, and I’ll never give up on you,” he repeated.

She looked up, “That’s what I remember too. I love you. I love you… Ch-Chat Noir.”

His heart triple-timed a rhythm against his ribcage, but then, everything became clear. Their eyes met again. “That’s right. I love you, Ladybug.”

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, her brilliant bluebell eyes swallowing him whole. His fingers ran over her ears and to the tiny earrings on her lobes. He leaned in, feeling her breath wash over him, ready for the moment—

“ _Finally!_ I’m so glad I don’t have to live in your jacket pocket all the time! Ladybug’s purse is so much roomier!” Marinette gasped and pulled back to look at the black kwami that had just phased through Adrien’s pocket.

“Plagg!” Tikki’s voice interjected, “You’re totally ruining their moment! Don’t you realize how much they’ve been through together? Let them have just a little peace!”

Plagg shook his head, “No way. You just love it whenever our holders fall in love and get all mushy.”

Tikki sighed, “Well, it _is_ terribly romantic—”

“Tikki!” Marinette gasped.

“Oh, sorry,” Tikki giggled as Plagg tackled her and headed to Marinette’s purse.

“Seriously,” the black cat kwami growled, “you’re way worse than me. I only interrupt their gross moments, not sit back to _watch…_ ”

The two disappeared into the purse and Marinette and Adrien broke into hysterics. They laughed with their foreheads together until Adrien’s eyes watered. Finally, their eyes met once more, and the electricity buzzing between them reached a fever pitch.

“Well, if it’s a show Tikki wants, a show she’ll get,” Adrien smirked, then leaned in and kissed Marinette so passionately that even Tikki’s ladybug-red-cheeks would flush.

* * *

The mansion was quiet when Adrien held his breath and walked through the front doors. Once inside, though, it wasn’t as bad as he had been expecting. He walked to his father’s atelier and boldly knocked on the door. The sound echoed dully. After a minute, he knocked again, then tested the knob. It was unlocked, so he entered hesitantly. “F-father?” but even as the word passed his lips, swirling memories of Hawkmoth’s face surrounded by purple flames cropped up and he knew his Father would not be in the atelier. 

The room was clean and had a quasi-reverent feel to it. The desk had been freshly organized, the furniture was warm, even the tile design that had once looked like butterflies to him now was only a design. It wasn’t different, Adrien noted, it just didn’t carry the same haunted gravitas that it once had. The portrait of his mother _was_ different, however. He walked forward to study it. The colors and shapes were the same, but she was smiling softly. She looked so peaceful. Adrien knew what he needed to do, though, and gently placed his fingers in the slots that would activate the elevator.

There was nothing but canvas and the textured paint. Adrien pulled his fingers back in alarm, then stepped even closer to inspect it. He lifted the back of the painting and there was only wall. Surprised, Adrien checked behind the other painting where Gabriel’s safe had been hidden, and there was nothing there either. Finally, Adrien got to his hands and knees and felt the edges of the floor tile for any hint of the elevator’s whereabouts. Eventually, he was forced to conclude that the elevator, and by extension, Hawkmoth’s lair, was gone. 

He sat on the floor with his back against the desk and looked up at the art deco painting. His mother’s tender smile rained down on him. The memories swirled forward forcefully.

_The airport tarmac was flanked with lines of people in black, all holding umbrellas to keep the soft rain at bay. Adrien didn’t want an umbrella. His mother and he had always shared a connection through the rain. He lifted his face to the sky and let the water pour over his eyelids and hair. They rolled her coffin through the lines of people. Everyone was weeping, except Adrien. He was grateful—grateful that she hadn’t suffered, grateful that he’d had the chance to say goodbye before they left for Tibet, grateful that she was at peace._

_Once the coffin had passed, Adrien and Gabriel followed behind. Gabriel growled beneath his breath, “I will avenge her, if it is the last thing I do.”_

_“Father?” Adrien asked, looking up at the older man, “She wouldn’t want you to be angry. Her death was a tragic accident.”_

_Gabriel’s gaze was fixed forward. Adrien knew he was still upset and probably would be for years. But Adrien promised himself that he would live his life to honor his mother and not give in to despair and bitterness._

That’s right, Adrien thought as warmness filled his chest, she died in an accident in Tibet when I was thirteen. We mourned her, we laid her to rest, and my father was angry. That’s what happened. Gabriel had changed then, and Adrien remembered becoming Chat Noir in his mother’s honor and fighting Hawkmoth, a man bent on revenge. 

There was another memory, one that was foggier and more distant than the memories of his mother’s funeral… almost as if it were a dream, or a different lifetime—his mother locked in a tube, his father working to heal her—but even as he thought about it, it slipped further and further away. That may have happened once, but—his Miraculous glowed softly—not anymore.


	27. Chapter 27

The music coming from Nino’s house could be heard from the street. Adrien laced his fingers between Marinette’s and asked, “You sure you’re good?”

Her head was already bobbing to the music, “Mm-hmm! But if you want to sneak away for something quieter, just let me know. We could come up with a secret code, like a word or something—"

Adrien chuckled as he remembered setting up a code with Tom. “OK,” he snickered, “if I start making a bunch of puns, you’ll know it’s time to go.” 

She giggled, “That is _so_ you.”

“Hey, don’t knock the code. It’s a good, solid code. It’s worked in the past.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked nonchalantly, “When was that?”

Adrien tried to think of the specific moment, but all he had were foggy memories. “I… I think it was yesterday? Or maybe earlier?” 

She looked up at him meaningfully. “It was in the other reality, wasn’t it.”

He pondered that, “Was that even _real?_ ”

“I don’t know. But I keep having distinct memories surface, side-by-side with other memories, and I’m not certain which to believe.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Like,” Adrien added, his voice lowering, “do you remember about the time we met, my mother had passed away, right?”

She bit her lip, “I believe so, but was she missing for years?”

“I don’t think so.” They looked at each other carefully for a long while.

Marinette squeezed his hand, “We’re both still disoriented.”

Adrien fingered his temple, “And what about my f-father?”

Marinette cupped his cheek with her hand, “That was not your fault, in any reality.”

He hesitated, “I still can’t believe he was Hawkmoth the whole time.”

She touched his arm softly, “No matter the reason why he chose that path, we always tried to help him and everyone he akumatized.”

He nodded. “I still wish I could have helped him more.”

“Look, Adrien, if you need the evening off—”

“No,” Adrien repeated, “I want to be with our friends. I want to get to understand everyone and everything again.”

“Then let’s _dough_ this!” Marinette giggled.

Adrien sighed, “I love you so much.” The two marched inside hand-in-hand. It was crowded, but casual. Nino had his turntable set up and was teaching Luka some of the finer points of DJing while Rose, Juleka, and Ivan watched on. Alya, Mylene, Chloe, and Sabrina were chatting in another corner. Alya waved when Marinette and Adrien entered. Marc, Nathaniel, Max, and Lila were playing video games on the couch. Alya bounded over to greet Adrien and Marinette. 

“Hey! You two made it!” She greeted Marinette with a kiss on the cheeks, then stomped loudly, “Great. You’re here. Now tell me about _this,”_ she demanded, pointing to their interlaced hands. 

Marinette and Adrien smiled at each other, then Adrien winked at Alya cryptically, “A lot can change in a week, am I right?”

Marinette placed her head on his shoulder, “An awful lot.”

Alya took a deep breath to start a major freak-out. Marinette gave Adrien a quick smile and pressed his back toward Nino—wordlessly communicating that she would talk Alya down while Adrien caught up with his friend. A moment later, Nino and Adrien high-fived into a one-armed-hug, “Adrien, dude, check this out!”

Nino launched into an explanation of his latest mix, and Adrien listened politely. When he took a breath, Luka broke in, “That’s so cool, Nino! It’s similar to the way Jagged Stone’s crew mixes sound, only on a much bigger scale. I’d love to show him your technique.”

“Wait,” Nino’s jaw went slack, “show J-Jagged Stone my technique?”

“Definitely!”

Adrien interjected, “How’s the tour going, Luka?”

Luka smiled at him, “Excellent.” The older boy then saddled closer to Adrien, leaned in, and muttered, “Hey, I saw you come in with Marinette. Are you two…?”

“Together?” Luka nodded eagerly. Adrien clarified, “Yes.”

To Adrien’s relief, Luka smiled, “That’s awesome. I’ve always hoped that she would get what she dreamed of for years.”

Adrien grinned, “You know, I loved her from day one as well. It just took us four years to realize it.”

Luka raised an eyebrow, but patted Adrien’s shoulder, “Well, I’m happy for you, man.”

“How about you, how are you doing?” Adrien asked.

Luka scratched his cheek shyly, “There’s this… this amazing stage tech in Jagged’s crew… it’s nothing official yet, I mean, I’m barely twenty, but… it’s fun.”

Adrien returned Luka’s broad grin, “I’m happy for you too, then.” Luka smiled. “Hey, uh, Luka,” Adrien leaned in briefly, “have you ever thought about growing a beard?”

Luka’s eyes widened and he stroked his chin. “I was… I was actually just thinking about that.”

Nino, who had been only half listening to their conversation, gave Luka a thumbs-up, “Go for it, man!”

Adrien nodded. “Definitely. I hear girls really like guitarists with facial hair. And maybe a motorcycle.”

“Yeah,” Luka grinned pensively, “I might just do that…”

Their conversation trailed off, and Adrien looked around to find Marinette. She was apparently past Alya’s tirade and was now surrounded by other girls. Lila had abandoned her video game and was talking animatedly while Chloe tossed her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “Oh no, I’d better go rescue Marinette,” Adrien indicated the group with a nod in their direction. 

“Good luck,” Luka smiled, and Adrien made his way across the room. Lila’s overly sweet voice was elevated over the others.

“All I’m saying,” Lila snipped, “is that I _saw_ Ladybug akumatized a week ago, and that she was trapped in a gazebo covered in thorns! I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“Come _on_ ,” Alya sighed, “That may be something I fell for back when we were in collège, but it’s been years since any of us really believed you. No offense,” Alya added. Lila was clearly offended. “Besides, I think we’d all know if Ladybug had been akumatized. She’s the only one who has the power to cleanse the akumas, and if she went down, we’d all be doomed.” Marinette was blushing furiously and looking at the floor, staying out of this conversation. 

“What do I need to say to convince you?” Lila screeched, “I was there! As you all know, I work for this Chinese catering company, and we were hired by an anonymous source to set up the gazebo with dinner, and I was so intrigued that I hung back for a bit and Ladybug and Chat Noir arrived, and they fought—”

“You were spying on Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Chloe interrupted, “That’s just—”

“Ridiculous, yes, Chloe, we all know that,” Alya confirmed. “Seriously, Lila, you need to get yourself a new hobby.”

Lila stomped her foot, “I’m telling the truth! Ladybug and Chat Noir got in a fight, she was angry, and the akuma hit the yo-yo in her right hand!”

Adrien made to say something, but Chloe held up a finger to his lips, “No, Lila, we’re all done with your lies. I’m glad you’re safe and well and all that, but please, spare your breath on all of us.”

Lila folded her arms, glared, and stalked off, heading for the door. “Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care. It’s still the truth!”

“Yeah?” Chloe called over her shoulder, “So you’ve said literally every time you’ve talked to anyone, ever. You’ve cried wolf a hundred too many times, Lila!”

The brunette growled under her breath and slammed the door behind her. Chloe turned and laughed, “Sorry that got kind of ugly there. I just… I can’t _stand_ her.”

“Thanks,” Marinette squeaked, “Thanks for sticking up for me, Chloe.” Adrien wasn’t sure what had sparked the fight with Lila, but he was outrageously grateful that Chloe had defended Marinette.

Chloe looked at Marinette with a lifted eyebrow. Chloe’s face suddenly emitted golden tendrils of light that faded rapidly. “I… I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

Alya gawked, “Heck yes it was, Chlo! That was about the awesomest thing I’ve ever seen you do!”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Adrien, good to see you.”

“What, no Adrikins?”

She glared, “I only call you Adrikins when you’ve done something to deserve it. Now,” Chloe huffed, “I’m getting tired and am going home early. Though—” she thought briefly, then turned to her best friend, “I did want to talk to you, Sabrina. I’ve been thinking about cutting my hair…” And with that, Chloe linked arms with Sabrina and the two marched off for the exit, thick as thieves.

The rest of the gaggle of girls dispersed, and Adrien found himself next to Marinette once more. “ _Bready_ to head out?” she whispered.

“De- _feline-_ ately.” The two made some quick excuses—years of training as Ladybug and Chat Noir helped with that—and headed out into the cold evening air. Marinette pulled her jacket close around her chin, shivering.

“You cold? I’ve got something for that,” Adrien smiled, reaching into his messenger bag and extracting the soft blue scarf and wrapping it around her neck. She flushed pink and buried her nose in it. “I never got to thank you.”

“For what?” she peeped in a muffled voice.

“For this scarf.”

She paused her walking and looked up at him with those gorgeous bluebell eyes that always threatened to swallow him whole. “I… I thought you got it from your father?”

He shook his head, “Marinette, we promised not to hide things from each other anymore. I know you made the scarf. I know you were behind every good thing that’s happened to me since the moment we met.”

She swallowed, “I-I don’t know what to say.” Adrien loved catching her off guard. She was so beautiful when she was flustered. Adrien stepped closer, brushed her cheek with his thumb, and kissed her softly. She leaned up on her toes and returned his advance. He held her waist and kissed her until she finally took a step back and checked her phone for the time. “Oh shoot,” she muttered.

“What is it?” 

“I promised Papa I would help in the bakery tomorrow morning, and that means an early start; I really should get to bed on time.”

“Sounds great.” Marinette looked at him curiously. “I mean,” Adrien clarified, “I’m not going anywhere. Our relationship isn’t going to end just because you needed to go home early.”

She bit her lip, “I love you so much, Adrien.”

“I love you too, Maribug.” He walked her home with his arm over her shoulders. She still seemed uncertain, like she couldn’t quite believe he felt the same way about her, or maybe like she couldn’t quite remember the past week. Adrien didn’t blame her; everything was still blurry, though certain things were becoming clearer. He knew who his father was, he knew who Marinette was, and he knew who he was. For now, at least, that would be enough. Adrien walked Marinette right up to her doorstep, where she stood on the step above him so they would be at the same height. “Well, goodnight, Chaton,” she smiled.

“You have no idea how many times I dreamed about you saying that,” he grinned.

“And you have no idea how many times I dreamed about you kissing me on this doorstep.”

“Well, sounds like we need to make more dreams come true.”

Adrien scratched his cheek, “I don’t know, a lot of my dreams lately have been a little too real.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, “Mine too. Only the good dreams, then?”

“I like that,” he agreed, and leaned in to kiss her thoroughly. 

“Goodnight, Adrien,” she whispered again, opened her door, and waved goodbye. Adrien caught a glimpse of something strange—a picture of some kind—on her right palm before she disappeared into the bakery for the night.

* * *

_The air reeked of ash and chemicals. Adrien’s hand flew to his face to block out the stinging smell. He heard a choking cough beside him and turned to see Marinette shielding her mouth with her elbow. “Are you alright?”_

_She nodded and managed a brief smile before her eyes widened in shock and she pointed behind him. Adrien whipped around to see another Marinette, this one appearing slightly blurry and trailing a faint lavender light, marching up the steps of the Agreste Mansion. The whole building was also tinged with purple light. Adrien called to the other Marinette, but she didn’t turn or bat an eye. It was if she couldn’t see them or hear them at all. The door opened as she approached, and she confidently strode into the foyer. Adrien and the Marinette holding his hand hurried in behind her before the doors closed magically. “This is so weird!” the Marinette beside Adrien muttered._

_“Monsieur Agreste! I have some designs for you!” purple-Marinette called. “I think you’re going to love them! Nothing quite as incredible as yours, of course!”_

_The door to the atelier opened then, also without a visible person pushing it. Gabriel Agreste was standing by the portrait of Emilie. He was the only part of the room that didn’t have that eerie purple aura hanging around it. “Very well, Marinette, just leave them on my desk,” he stated flatly._

_“Don’t you want to see them?” she trilled, laying a stack of papers on Gabriel’s desk._

_“I can’t imagine it would be different than yesterday,” Gabriel muttered._

_“Come now, Monsieur! You always appreciate seeing my designs!”_

_“What I’d appreciate is for you to leave me alone!” Gabriel snapped. Adrien flinched, but purple-Marinette didn’t seem to notice the edge in his tone._

_“I so appreciate all your tutoring,” purple-Marinette hummed cheerfully, “I still can’t believe my fortune in getting to mentor with Gabriel Agreste!”_

_“Yes, you always were the lucky one, weren’t you,” he replied cryptically, before pretending to examine Marinette’s sketches. “These look perfect. I suppose I will see you again tomorrow.” His voice held no excitement, no joy. It was flat and dead, just like the expression on his face._

_“Wonderful! I will work hard all night to bring you something new and unusual!”_

_“Very well,” Gabriel sighed, and purple-Marinette skipped out of the room and into the charred landscape. Adrien grasped real-Marinette’s hand firmly and marched into the atelier. He cleared his throat._

_“Father?” Gabriel kept thumbing through the sketches, then glared and tossed the whole pile into the garbage can. Mysteriously, the papers immediately faded into nothingness. “Father?” Adrien repeated, louder. Still no response._

_“Adrien,” Marinette whispered beside him, “I don’t think he can see or hear us.”_

_Gabriel stood and returned to his reverie in front of Emilie’s painting. He reached up and pressed the hidden buttons on the painting and the floor around him started descending._

_“Hurry, let’s catch up!” Adrien yelped, but just as he started racing forward to catch the elevator before it descended, the whole room morphed into the basement lair, the catwalk jangling and echoing off the ceiling arches. “Whoa, what was that?” Adrien gasped._

_Marinette, who seemed far calmer than Adrien felt, looked around and muttered, “This is his reality. We see what he sees.”_

_Gabriel walked solemnly forward. There was a fuchsia light ahead, flitting around the dais, that stopped moving when Gabriel approached it. Marinette and Adrien hurried to be in hearing range. No—it wasn’t a light, it was Emilie. Adrien screamed, “Mother! You’re alive!”_

_“No,” Marinette whispered, pulling him closer to her, “don’t fall for it. Your mother passed away nearly five years ago. Don’t lose yourself, Adrien. Remember, we’re doing this together.”_

_His heart was still racing as he saw his mother’s shining face. Her lush blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder, her wide emerald eyes dancing with delight as she greeted Gabriel. “My love!” she crooned, walking to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “I just finished preparing the akuma chrysalises. They’ll be ready in a few days!”_

_Gabriel looked at her glowing face, “I miss you every day, Emilie,” he whispered._

_“I am right here, my love! What would you like me to do next?”_

_The look he gave her was haunted and lonely, not the adoring gaze that she was projecting. “Emilie,” he whispered, “do you remember when we were courting? You were so passionate. I used to call you my Firebird.”_

_She giggled and tried to kiss his cheek. He pulled away, but she didn’t care. “You hated that about me. You always wished I would be quieter about my feelings and my passions. Aren’t you glad I grew out of that? Now we can both be happy, here, together, caring for your akumas and working on your designs!”_

_He didn’t move as she laid a kiss on his chin and then rested her head on his chest. “What I wouldn’t give for just a little bit of your spirit again, if only briefly. I was wrong—your determination and drive were something special, not something to suppress.”_

_She stepped back and the purple light she was radiating blazed particularly bright. “You want drama and passion, I’ll give it to you,” she announced mechanically, her smile dimming. “What would you like to argue about first?”_

_Gabriel’s head dropped, “I don’t want to argue with you, I just… want you to be yourself.”_

_“You don’t think I’m myself?” she queried, backing up, “I don’t please you?”_

_He shook his head, “It’s not that—”_

_“I can be anything you want,” she answered. “You need only imagine it.”_

_He nodded dully, “I know.”_

_The scene slowed down. Adrien and Marinette watched as Gabriel busied himself checking over plants adorned with white chrysalises. His motions remained forced. Adrien felt sick watching his mother dancing from plant to plant, babbling endlessly about this or that. “That’s not her, Marinette. That’s not the woman who was my mother.”_

_“I know, Adrien,” Marinette responded gently._

_“She was vibrant and funny, and so full of life. That… that robot is…” he had to swallow hard to prevent himself from letting out a sob._

_“Adrien, she’s a ghost from Hawkmoth’s memory, that’s all.”_

_“So that’s what all this is, then,” he realized, “this is Hawkmoth’s reality.”_

_“Yes,” Marinette acknowledged._

_“Then why are we here?”_

_Marinette squeezed his hand. “It… it seemed like the right thing to do. When we were rewriting reality together. I… I made sure he would have everything he wanted or needed.”_

_“You…” Adrien struggled to find the right words, “You trapped him here?”_

_Marinette shook her head adamantly, “No, absolutely not! This was his choice, to stay. I just made sure he would have everything he wanted or needed.” Then, she looked down at her toes, “We’re here because… because of the price.” She let go of Adrien’s hand and revealed her open palm. Adrien gasped in horror to see a burn scar in the shape of a butterfly on her right palm. He traced it with his finger._

_“The last akuma?” Adrien asked, but as he looked up at her face, he had the strangest sensation of his chest being plunged in ice. Marinette shrieked as another figure walked right through them—a figure with blonde hair and green eyes, glowing a nasty shade of puce._

_“Adrien, it’s you!” Marinette wailed._

_Adrien watched in horror as his purple doppelgänger strode up to his father. “Hello, father,” purple-Adrien sneered in a cold, calculating voice. “I believe you called for me?”_

_Gabriel turned and gave a relieved smile when he saw his son. “Yes, yes, I am so grateful for you, Adrien.” Not-Adrien’s jaw clenched in pride. “You’re the only one who brings me any peace these days. Knowing I have you on my side is the greatest comfort.”_

_“I am the one grateful for you, Father,” the impostor grinned, “and that you are entrusting me to carry on your noble work.”_

_Gabriel nodded serenely as he gazed upon the chilling figure before him. “Excellent, excellent. Your mother has just helped arrange all the chrysalises. Today, I’d like to teach you how to hone the akuma’s powers for maximum damage.”_

_“I look forward to your instruction.”_

_“You know,” Gabriel smiled pensively, patting his son’s shoulder, “I think you may be an even greater Hawkmoth than I ever was.”_

“No!” Adrien screamed, suddenly bolt upright, head throbbing. 

“What is your problem?” Plagg groaned. Adrien checked the clock. Every breath helped him relax, and the pain in his head was dulling.

“Nothing,” Adrien replied, climbing back into bed and resting, “it was just a bad dream.”

“Well,” Plagg yawned, “get used to it kid. Last time took years to get over, and that was when the bad guys won.”

“Wait,” Adrien gasped, “Are you saying—” But Plagg was already snoring.


	28. Chapter 28

Adrien was supposed to be sorting through some of his father’s belongings, but mostly he was watching Marinette pack a box of office supplies from one of the bookshelves in the storage closet off the atelier. Her movements were hypnotic—her hips swayed slightly every time she leaned over the box, and her bangs kept swishing when she blinked. She had her lips pursed slightly, looking highly kissable.

“You know, we could totally ditch this and go track down Andre,” Adrien proposed.

She laughed, “Why don’t you take a break for a bit, I’ll finish up here.”

“No, the point of playing hookey right now would be to go on break _together._ ”

She smiled and turned to him, “Is that why you keep coming up with excuses to sneak off?”

He grinned unabashedly, “I have no problem admitting that I’d prefer to spend the afternoon chasing down delicious goodies with my gorgeous girlfriend than staying here cleaning out my father’s desk.”

She stretched and yawned, “A break _does_ sound good. Maybe you should just hire someone to clean this all up.” She walked over and sat on Gabriel’s desk. 

Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist, “Yeah, but we both know I can’t do that. What if there’s anything that ties him to his supervillain identity?”

“I know,” she whispered, “you’re being very mature about all of this. That’s something I love about you.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. “How are you doing, by the way? With all of this?” she tapped the desktop; Adrien knew what she meant.

He nodded and took a slow breath, “Good, I think. The therapist is helping a lot.”

“Great,” she whispered, kissing him again. “Of course, we can take more time. It’d be nice if the dreams would go away, but—”

“But we agreed to that price, together,” he finished for her, firm. “I’m not reneging on that now, and I never will.”

She smiled broadly, “And _another_ thing I love about you. But I did need to talk to you about that—”

“About what?” Adrien questioned as he released her waist and returned to the stack of papers he was rifling through. 

“About _together_. About what that means going forward.”

Adrien sighed. He’d thought about this a lot. “Like, what to do with our Miraculouses since Hawkmoth is gone?”

She nodded, “And other things, but let’s start with that.”

“OK,” Adrien smiled, “well, we don’t know where Mayura is, and even though he’s not here, there’s always the possibility of future threats.”

“I agree. We don’t know what dangers the future might hold. So, we hang on to them then?”

Adrien thumbed his ring, “Sounds good to me. You’re the guardian, though, so you get final say.”

“Well,” she bit her lip, “about that—”

The intercom buzzed loudly. Adrien and Marinette exchanged a look before Adrien went to the door to check who was at the gate. Officer Raincomprix was standing at attention, and next to him was Adrien’s lawyer holding a stack of important looking papers. Adrien opened the gate to allow them entrance. They made their way into the foyer, where Adrien ushered them into the atelier.

“Officer Raincomprix, Madame Lamounte—good to see you.” They all exchanged fond handshakes. 

“Monsieur Agreste—”

“Please call me Adrien.”

The officer smiled, “Adrien, and of course I know Marinette,” he nodded in her direction. “We’re here on secure business, though, so would you like to meet in private?’

Adrien looked at Marinette, “No, she can stay.”

“Very well,” Madame Lamounte began, pushing her glasses up further on her nose. “I’ve got the last few legal documents from the merger with the Tsurugi Business Group that your father initiated in the week before he went missing. You’re still behind the merger, right?”

“Wholeheartedly,” Adrien noted. “I think it will be best for everyone. Madame Tsurugi agreed to the conditions we set forward, then?”

Adrien’s lawyer nodded, “Yes, she agreed to act as interim CEO until the board selects a new one, and both you and Kagami will be listed as board members. We have just a few things to sign to ensure that your inheritance and stake in the company will remain secure until you decide what to do—even if that takes years and years.”

Marinette slipped her arm around Adrien’s waist and squeezed. “That’s perfect,” she whispered. “You can take some time, go to University—”

“Madame Tsurugi did ask if you’d made a decision on the mansion,” Madame Lamounte asked softly.

Adrien looked around the atelier, “I… I think so. I want to keep it. Without him here, it’s no longer the prison it once was. I think with a little redecorating and a few housemates, it could be a real asset to the community.” He smiled back at Marinette. “Do you think I could find a really great designer to hire?”

She tapped her lips, “I don’t think I know any interior designers—”

“I’m talking about _you_ Marinette,” he laughed.

Marinette blushed bright pink, “Uh, I-I don’t have much ex-experience,” she stammered.

He kissed her forehead, “We’ll work it out later. Besides, you’d only be the head of the design team; you’d have lots of people to help you.” Adrien turned back to the lawyer, who was smiling at the two of them fondly, “I’d really like to use this mansion to help others in need. Maybe some other students?”

Madame Lamounte nodded and jotted down some notes on her tablet. “That sounds excellent. We’ll work on the legal side to make sure we can honor your wishes.”

“Other students,” Marinette whispered, still flushed from considering being hired as the head of the design team for Adrien’s home, “does that mean you’ve also made a decision about university?”

Adrien cleared his throat, then answered, “I made that decision a long time ago.”

Marinette’s face split into a huge grin, “I’m so happy for you. Sorbonne doesn’t know how lucky they are to get you.”

He kissed her nose, “The best part is, it’s not so far from ESMOD that we won’t be able to see each other frequently.” She nodded enthusiastically.

“Wonderful,” the lawyer responded, jotting down notes as rapidly as she could. 

Officer Raincomprix smiled, and spoke for the first time in the conversation, “I am so happy for you both. I do, however, need to ask about the investigation.”

The mood in the room shifted several degrees colder. “I figured as much,” Adrien muttered. 

Officer Raincomprix looked at the notes on his phone, “It’s been several weeks since your father disappeared. We still have no leads. I’m glad that the merger was completed before he went missing, as that simplifies things considerably, but… I’m sorry, Adrien. The case has gone cold.”

Adrien nodded. “What do you need from me?”

Officer Raincomprix shuffled his feet, “We need to know what to do next. Would you like us to continue our investigation?”

Adrien and Marinette looked at each other knowingly, then Adrien replied, “No, you have my permission to close it.”

Officer Raincomprix seemed to relax. “Very well. However, that doesn’t answer the question about what to tell the media—”

Marinette spoke up suddenly, “Gabriel Agreste was a very private man. I’m sure his disappearance, especially after he signed away all his business holdings in the merger, could be attributed to nothing more than an early retirement, and would be hardly newsworthy. I think it would be to everyone’s best interest if we just let it go.” She checked in with Adrien, “Right?”

He smiled at her, trying to thank her for her understanding with his eyes, “Right. Please, let’s let the statement about the merger stand and keep everything else quiet.”

Officer Raincomprix looked like he might protest briefly, but then he smiled and nodded. As he moved his head, Adrien could have sworn he saw the faintest golden glow streak away from his cheeks. “Sounds like everything is settled, then. Thank you for your time.”

Adrien shook hands with the officer and the lawyer, then saw them out. Marinette met him in the foyer. “You know,” Adrien grinned, “this house is seeming brighter and better with every passing moment.”

She hugged him, “I agree.” He leaned in for a kiss, but she placed a finger over his mouth. “Before I let you distract me any further, though, and while we’re making lots of big decisions, I didn’t finish my thought from before.”

Adrien wracked his brain to remember what they were talking about. “Oh,” he recalled, “you mean about… together?”

She nodded. “Adrien, we’re a team. And no matter what happens in the future, no matter how far we might go as a couple—”

“Marriage. Forever.” He blurted.

She blushed violently but pressed on, “No matter what we choose for the future, we’re a team first and foremost.” He nodded, holding her hand and tracing the burn scar on her palm. “I was wrong to push you away for so long.”

“Marinette, we’ve discussed this, and I don’t blame you—”

“Nor do I blame you,” she gushed, “but that doesn’t negate the point that I should have trusted you all along—with my identity, with everything. But the past is in the past. All we can do is move forward, together.”

“That’s all I want as well,” he added tenderly. 

“Then, can I make it official?”

“Make what official?”

She ran a thumb over his ring, “Will you be my co-guardian? The work, the secrets, the decisions will all be shared equally.”

His eyes blew wide. Of all the things she could have asked him, this was not what he’d been expecting. However, surprise quickly morphed to delight, and he kissed her palm, “I would be honored. Of course, it would mainly be to help you, so you’d never have to bear this burden alone again—”

“And _that,_ ” Marinette kissed his lips softly, “is the thing I love the most about you. You’re such an incredible, selfless person Adrien. You fought for me, even when I couldn’t understand why. Thank you for being my partner; I thought being given the earrings made me lucky. But no, I’m lucky because I have you.”

He stammered, no suave quip coming to smooth over the tears that had sprung to his eyes. “I love you too, Marinette,” was all he could think of.

She took a step backward, “Then, there’s only one thing left to do. Spots on,” she transformed in a blaze of pink light, “As guardian of the miraculous, I confer the rights and responsibilities of co-guardianship to Adrien Agreste. From now on, we’ll do this together.”

Adrien took Ladybug’s hand, looked into those brilliant blue eyes, and vowed, “Together.”

* * *

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you all for reading this wild ride of a fic. I love your comments, your kudos, and all the love. It really lifts my spirit and encourages me to keep writing. I hope you enjoyed Becoming Reality and will consider dropping me a line if you did.
> 
> Take care!  
> Love,   
> Mommadon


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